UNIVERSITY    0^ 


3   1822  01086  8412 


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it 


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PR  5308  41    1830 

(H     LA.  irOkNIA     ..AN 


presented  to  the 

UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
SAN  DIEGO 

by 


'AM 


p./? 


^iW   UaJiJL^    ScoVC 


TO    THE  MOST  NOBLE 
JOHN   JAMES 

MARQUIS   OF   ABERCORN. 

ETC.    ETC.    ETC. 

THIS   POEM   IS   INSCRIBED 

BY 

THE   AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Introduction 7 

The  Lady  of  the  Lake. 

canto  i. the  chase 2  1 

II. THE    ISLAND 6o 

III. THE    GATHERING I04 

IV. THE    PROPHECY 1 4^ 

V. THE    COMBAT lS8 

vi.  the  guard-room 235 

Appendix ^79 


INTRODUCTION 

TO 

THE    LADY    OF  THE    LAKE. 

Edition  1830. 


After  the  success  of  "  Marmion,"   I  felt  inclined  to 
exclaim  with  Ulysses  in  the  "  Odyssey  "  — 

Oiiog  /iih'  dr)  nedXog  d&uTog  iKieieleajat,- 
Nvf  (xui£  anonui'  fxllov.  Odys.  X  5>  6. 

"One  venturous  game  my  hand  has  won  to-day  — 
Another,  gallants,  yet  remains  to  play." 

The  ancient  manners,  the  habits  and  costumes  of  the 
aboriginal  race  by  whom  the  Highlands  of  Scotland 
were  inhabited,  had  always  appeared  to  me  peculiarly 
adapted  to  poetry.  The  change  in  their  manners,  too, 
had  taken  place  almost  within  my  own  time,  or  at  least 
I  had  learned  many  particulars  concerning  the  ancient 
state  of  the  Highlands  from  the  old  men  of  the  last 
generation.  I  had  always  thought  the  old  Scottish 
Gael  highly  adapted  for  poetical  composition.  The 
feuds  and  political  dissensions,  which  half  a  century 
earlier  would  have  rendered  the  richer  and  wealthier 
part  of  the  kingdom  indisposed  to  countenance  a  poem, 
the  scene  of  which  was  laid  in  the  Highlands,  were  now 
sunk  in  the  generous  compassion  which  the  English, 
more  than  any  other  nation,  feel  for  the  misfortunes  of 


INTRODUCTIOX. 


an  honorable  foe.  The  Poems  of  Ossian  had,  by  their 
popularity,  sufficiently  shown  that  if  writings  on  High- 
land subjects  were  qualified  to  interest  the  reader,  mere 
national  prejudices  were  in  the  present  day  very  unlikely 
to  interfere  with  their  success. 

I  had  also  read  a  great  deal,  seen  much,  and  heard 
more  of  that  romantic  country,  where  I  was  in  the  habit 
of  spending  some  time  every  autumn  ;  and  the  scenery 
of  Loch  Katrine  was  connected  with  the  recollection  of 
many  a  dear  friend  and  merry  expedition  of  former  days. 
This  poem,  the  action  of  which  lay  among  scenes  so 
beautiful,  and  so  deeply  imprinted  on  my  recollection, 
was  a  labor  of  love  ;  and  it  was  no  less  so  to  recall  the 
manners  aiul  incidents  introduced.  The  frequent  cus- 
tom of  James  IV.,  and  particularly  of  James  V.,  to  walk 
through  their  kingdom  in  disguise,  afforded  me  the  hint 
of  an  incident,  which  never  fails  to  l)e  interesting  if 
managed  with  the  slightest  address  or  dexterity. 

I  may  ikav  confess,  however,  that  the  employment, 
though  attended  with  great  pleasure,  was  not  without 
its  doubts  and  anxieties.  A  lady,  to  whom  I  was  nearly 
related,  and  with  wliom  I  lived,  during  her  whole  life, 
on  the  most  brotherly  terms  of  affection,  was  residing 
with  me  at  the  time  when  the  work  was  in  ])rogress,  and 
used  to  ask  me  what  I  could  possibly  do  to  rise  so  early 
in  the  morning  (that  hapjiening  to  be  the  most  conve- 
nient time  to  me  for  composition).  At  last  I  told  her 
the  subject  of  my  meditations  ;  and  I  can  never  forget 
the  anxiety  and  affection  expressed  in  her  rei)Iy.     "  I  Jo 


IN  TROD  UCnON. 


not  be  so  rash,"  she  said,  "my  dearest  cousin.*  You 
are  already  popular  — more  so,  perhaps,  than  you  yourself 
will  believe,  or  than  even  I,  or  other  partial  friends,  can 
fairly  allow  to  your  merit.  You  stand  high  —  do  not 
rashly  attempt  to  climb  higher,  and  incur  the  risk  of  a 
fall ;  for,  depend  upon  it,  a  favorite  will  not  be  permitted 
even  to  stumble  with  impunity."  I  replied  to  this 
affectionate  expostulation  in  the  words  of  Montrose  — 

"He  either  fears  his  fate  too  much, 
Or  his  deserts  are  small, 
Who  dares  not  put  it  to  the  touch 
To  gain  or  lose  it  all." 

"  If  I  fail,"  I  said,  for  the  dialogue-  is  strong  in  my 
recollection,  "  it  is  a  sign  that  I  ought  never  to  have 
succeeded,  and  I  will  write  prose  for  life  :  you  shall  see 
no  change  in  my  temper,  nor  will  I  eat  a  single  meal  the 
worse.     But  if  I  succeed,  — 

"  Up  with  the  bonnie  blue  bonnet, 

The  dirk,  and  the  feather,  and  a' ! " 

Afterwards  I  showed  my  affectionate  and  anxious 
critic  the  first  canto  of  the  poem,  which  reconciled  her 
to  my  imprudence.  Nevertheless,  although  I  answered 
thus   confidently,   with  the  obstinacy  often  said  to  be 

*The  lady  with  whom  Sir  Walter  Scott  held  this  conversation, 
was,  no  doubt,  his  aunt,  Miss  Christian  Rutherford;  there  was  no 
other  female  relation  dead  when  this  Introduction  was  written,  whom 
I  can  suppose  him  to  have  consulted  on  literary  questions.  Lady 
Capulet,  on  seeing  the  corpse  of  Tybalt,  exclaims  — 

"  Tybalt,  my  cousin  !  oh  my  brother's  cliild  !  "  — Ep. 


I O  I A  TROD  UCTION. 

proper  to  tliosc  who  bear  my  surname,  I  acknowlcdj^c 
that  my  confidence  was  considerably  shaken  by  the 
warning  of  her  excellent  taste  and  unbiassed  friendship. 
Nor  was  I  much  comforted  by  her  retractation  of  the 
unfavorable  judgment,  when  I  recollected  how  likely  a 
natural  partiality  was  to  effect  that  change  of  opinion. 
In  such  cases,  affection  rises  like  a  light  on  the  canvas, 
improves  any  favorable  tints  which  it  formerly  exhibited, 
and  throws  its  defects  into  the  shade. 

I  remember  that  about  the  same  time  a  friend  started 
in  to  "  heeze  up  my  hope,"  like  the  "sportsman  with 
his  cutty-gun,"  in  the  old  song.  He  was  bred  a  farmer, 
but  a  man  of  powerful  understanding,  natural  good  taste, 
and  warm  poetical  feeling,  perfectly  comjietent  to  sup- 
ply the  wants  of  an  imi)erfect  or  irregular  education, 
lie  was  a  passionate  admirer  of  field-sj)orts,  which  wc 
often  pursued  together. 

As  this  friend  hajipencd  to  dine  with  meat  Ashcsteil 
onv  (lav,  I  took  the  opportunity  of  reading  to  him  the 
first  canto  of  "The  Lady  of  the  Lake,"  in  order  to  ascer- 
tain the  effect  the  poem  was  likely  to  jiroduce  upon  a 
person  who  was  but  loo  favorable  a  rejiresentative  of 
readers  at  large.  It  is,  of  course,  to  be  supposed,  that  I 
determined  rather  to  guide  my  o])inion  by  what  my 
friend  might  appear  to  feel  than  by  what  he  might  think 
fit  to  say.  His  rece]->tion  of  my  recitation,  or  prelection, 
was  rather  singular.  1  Ir  placed  his  hand  across  his 
brow,  and  listened  witli  great  attention  through  the 
whole  account  of  the  stag-hunt,  till  the  dogs  threw  them- 


INTRODUCTION.  1 1 

selves  into  the  lake  to  follow  their  master,  who  embarks 
with  Ellen  Douglas.  He  then  started  up  with  a  sudden 
exclamation,  struck  his  hand  on  the  table,  and  declared, 
in  a  voice  of  censure  calculated  for  the  occasion,  that 
the  dogs  must  have  been  totally  ruined  by  being  per- 
mitted to  take  the  water  after  such  a  severe  chase.  I 
own  I  was  much  encouraged  by  the  species  of  reverie 
which  had  possessed  so  zealous  a  follower  of  the  sports 
of  the  ancient  Nimrod,  who  had  been  completely  sur- 
prised out  of  all  doubts  of  the  reality  of  the  tale.  An- 
other of  his  remarks  gave  me  less  pleasure.  He  detected 
the  identity  of  the  King  with  the  wandering  knight, 
Fitz-James,  when  he  winds  his  bugle  to  summon  his 
attendants.  He  was  probably  thinking  of  the  lively,  but 
somewhat  licentious,  old  ballad,  in  which  the  denouement 
of  a  royal  intrigue  takes  place  as  follows:  — 

"  He  took  a  bugle  frae  his  side, 
He  blew  both  loud  and  shrill, 
Aiid  four-and-twenty  belted  knights 
Came  skipping  ower  the  hill ; 
Then  he  took  out  a  little  knife, 
Let  a'  his  duddies  fa', 
And  he  was  the  brawest  gentleman 
That  was  amang  them  a'. 

And  we'll  go  no  more  a-roving,"  (S:c. 

This  discovery,  as  Mr.  Pepys  says  of  the  rent  in  his 
camlet  cloak,  was  but  a  trifle,  yet  it  troubled  me ;  and  I 
was  at  a  good  deal  of  pains  to  efface  any  marks  by  which 
I  thought  my  secret  could  be  traced  before  the  conclu- 
sion, when  I  relied  on  it  with  the  same  hope  of  produc- 


12  IXTRODUCTIO.W 


ing  effect,    with    which    tlie    Irish    post-boy    is   said    to 
reserve  a  "trot  for  the  avenue." 

I  took  uncommon  pains  to  verify  the  accuracy  of  the 
local  circumstances  of  this  story.  I  recollect,  in  particu- 
lar, that  to  ascertain  whether  I  was  tellini;-  a  probable 
tale,  I  went  into  Perthshire,  to  see  whether  King  James 
could  actually  have  ridden  from  the  banks  of  Loch  Ven- 
nachar  to  Stirling  Castle  within  the  time  supposed  in 
the  Poem,  and  had  the  pleasure  to  satisfy  myself  that  it 
was  quite  practicable. 

After  a  considerable  delay,  "The  Lady  of  the  Lake" 
appeared  in  June,  1810  ;  and  its  success  was  certainly  so 
extraordinary  as  to  induce  me  for  the  moment  to  con- 
clude that  I  had  at  last  fixed  a  nail  in  the  proverbially 
inconstant  wheel  of  1^'ortune,  whose  stability  in  behalf 
of  an  individual  wlio  had  so  boldly  courted  hcrfaxorfor 
three  successive  times  had  not  as  yet  been  shaken.  I 
had  attained,  perhaps,  that  degree  of  public  reputation 
at  which  |)rudence,  or  certainly  timidit)',  wouM  have 
made  a  halt,  and  discontinued  efforts  by  which  I  was  far 
more  likely  to  diminish  my  fame  tlian  to  increase  it. 
liut  as  the  celebrated  Jolm  Wilkes  is  said  to  have  ex- 
plained to  his  late  Majesty,  that  he  himself,  amid  his  full 
tide  of  pojnilarity,  was  never  a  Wilkite,  so  I  can,  with 
honest  truth,  exculpate  myself  from  having  been  at  any 
time  a  {partisan  of  my  own  poetry,  even  when  it  was  in 
the  highest  fashion  with  the  million.  It  must  not  be 
supposed,  that  I  was  either  so  ungrateful,  or  so  super- 
abundantly candid,  as  to  despi.se  or  scorn   the  \alue  of 


INTRODUCTION.  1 3 


those  whose  voice  had  elevated  me  so  much  higher  than 
my  own  opinion  told  me  I  deserved.  I  felt,  on  the  con- 
trary, the  more  grateful  to  the  public,  as  receiving  that 
from  partiality  to  me,  which  I  could  not  have  claimed 
from  merit  ;  and  I  endeavored  to  deserve  the  partiality, 
by  continuing  such  exertions  as  I  was  capable  of  for 
their  2C  usement. 

^  may  be  that  I  did  not,  in  this  continued  course  of 
scribbling,  consult  either  the  interest  of  the  public  or 
my  own.  But  the  former  had  effectual  means  of 
defending  themselves,  and  could,  by  their  coldness, 
sufficiently  check  any  approach  to  intrusion  ;  and  for 
myself,  I  had  now  for  several  years  dedicated  my  hours 
so  much  to  literary  labor,  that  I  should  have  felt  diffi- 
culty in  employing  myself  otherwise  ;  and  so,  like  Dog- 
berry, I  generously  bestowed  all  my  tediousness  on  the 
public,  comforting  myself  with  the  reflection,  that  if 
posterity  should  think  me  undeserving  of  the  favor  with 
which  I  was  regarded  by  my  contemporaries,  "they 
could  but  say  I  Jiad  "Ocio.  crown,"  and  had  enjoyed  for  a 
time  that  popularity  which  is  so  much  coveted. 

I  conceived,  however,  that  I  held  the  distinguished 
situation  I  had  obtained,  however  unworthily,  rather  like 
the  champion  of  pugilism,*  on  the  condition  of  being 
always  ready  to  show  proofs  of  my  skill,  than   in   the 

*"In  twice  five  years  the  'greatest  living  poet,' 
Like  to  the  champion  in  the  fisty  ring, 
Is  called  on  to  support  his  claim,  or  show  it, 
Although  'tis  an  imaginary  thing,"  etc. 

Doji  Juan,  canto  .xi.  st.  55. 


14  /.\/A\)JWTr/Lh\'. 


manner  ol  the  cliani|)ton  of  chivalry,  who  porfonns  his 
tiutics  only  on  raic  ami  solemn  occasions.  I  was  in  any 
case  conscious  that  I  could  not  lon^c  hold  a  situation 
which  the  caprice,  rather  than  the  judi;ment,  of  the 
public,  had  bestowed  upon  me,  and  preferred  bein^ 
deprived  of  my  i^recedence  by  some  more  worthy  ri\al, 
to  sinkiuLj  into  contempt  for  my  indolence,  and  losing 
my  reputation  1)\'  what  Scottish  lawyers  call  the  ;/ri,'v/- 
iivc  pirscription.  Accordingly,  those  who  choose  to 
look  at  the  Introduction  to  Rokeby,  in  the  present 
edition,  will  be  able  to  trace  the  steps  by  which  I  decline 
as  a  poet  to  figure  as  a  novelist  ;  as  the  ballad  says, 
Queen  lileanor  sunk  at  ChariuLC-Cross  to  rise  again  at 
Oueenhithe. 

It  only  remains  for  me  to  say,  that,  during  my  short 
pre-eminence  (jf  ])oj)ularity,  I  faithfully  f)bserved  the 
rules  of  moderation  which  I  had  resoUed  to  follow 
before  I  began  my  course  as  a  man  of  letters.  If  a  man 
is  determined  to  make  a  noise  in  the  world,  he  is  as  sure 
to  encounter  abuse  and  ridicule,  as  he  who  gallo])s 
furiously  through  a  village  must  reckon  on  being  followed 
jjy  the  curs  in  full  cry.  I-'xperienced  persons  know,  that 
in  stretching  to  flog  the  latter,  the  rider  is  very  apt  to 
catch  a  bad  fall  ;  nor  is  an  attempt  to  chastise  a  malignant 
critic  attendetl  with  less  danger  to  the  author.  On  this 
principle,  I  let  parody,  burlescpie,  and  squibs  find  their 
own  level ;  and  while  the  latter  hissed  most  fiercely,  I 
was  cautious  never  to  catch  them  up,  as  sclu)ol-boys  do, 
to  throw  them  back  against  the  naughty  boy  who  fired 


INTRODUCTION.  1 5 


them  off,  wisely  remembering  that  they  are,  in  such 
cases,  apt  to  explode  in  the  handling.  Let  me  add,  that 
my  reign*  (since  Byron  has  so  called  it)  was  marked  by 
some  instances  of  good-nature  as  well  as  patience.  I 
never  refused  a  literary  person  of  merit  such  services  in 
smoothing  his  way  to  the  public  as  were  in  my  power  ; 
and  I  had  the  advantage,  rather  an  uncommon  one  with 
our  irritable  race,  to  enjoy  general  favor,  without  incur- 
ring permanent  ill-will,  so  far  as  is  known  to  me,  among 

any  of  my  contemporaries. 

W.  S. 

Abbotsb'ord,  April  (1830). 

*"Sir  Walter  reign'd  before,"  etc. 

Don  Jiia/i,  canto  xi.  st.  57, 


THE 


LADY    OF   THE    LAKE. 


A    POEM 
IN  SIX  CANTOS. 


ARGUMENT. 


The  Scene  of  the  following  Poem  is  laid  chiefly  in 
the  vicinity  of  Loch  Katrine,  in  the  Western  Highlands 
of  Perthshire.  The  time  of  action  includes  six  days, 
and  the  transactions  of  each  day  occupy  a  Canto.* 

* "  Never,  we  think,  has  the  analogy  between  poetry  and  painting 
been  more  strikingly  exemplified  than  in  the  writings  of  Mr.  Scott. 
lie  sees  everything  with  a  painter's  eye.  Whatever  he  represents  has 
a  character  of  individuality,  and  is  drawn  with  an  accuracy  and  minute- 
ness of  discrimination  which  we  are  not  accustomed  to  expect  from 
verbal  description.  Much  of  this,  no  doubt,  is  the  result  of  genius ; 
for  there  is  a  quick  and  comprehensive  power  of  discernment,  an  inten- 
sity and  keenness  of  observation,  an  almost  intuitive  glance  which 
nature  alone  can  give,  and  by  means  of  which  her  favorites  are  enabled 
to  discover  characteristic  differences  where  the  eye  of  dulness  sees 
nothing  but  uniformity ;  but  something  also  must  be  referred  to  disci- 
pline and  exercise.  The  liveliest  fancy  can  only  call  forth  those  images 
which  are  already  stored  uj)  in  the  memory  ;  and  all  that  invention  can 
do  is  to  unite  these  into  new  combinations,  which  must  appear  confused 
and  ill-defined,  if  the  impressions  originally  received  by  the  senses  were 
deficient  in  strength  and  distinctness.  It  is  because  Mr.  Scott  usually 
delineates  those  objects  with  which  he  is  perfectly  familiar  that  his 
touch  is  so  easy,  correct,  and  animated.  The  rocks,  the  ravines,  and 
the  torrents,  which  he  exhibits,  are  not  the  imj^erfect  sketches  of  a 
hurried  traveller,  but  the  finished  studies  of  a  resident  artist,  deliber- 
ately drawn  from  different  points  of  view;  each  has  its  true  shape 
and  position;  it  is  a  portrait;  it  has  its  name  by  which  the  spectator 
is  invited  to  examine  the  exactness  of  the  resemblance.  The  figures 
which  are  combined  with  the  landscape  are  painted  with  the  same 
fidelity.  Like  those  of  Salvator  Rosa,  they  are  perfectly  appropriate 
to  the  spot  on  which  they  stand.  The  boldness  of  feature,  the  light- 
ness and  compactness  of    form,   the  wildncss  of  air,   and  the  careless 


?0  ARGUMIXT. 


t-asf  of  attiludc  of  tlicsc  momilaint-Li  s,  arc  as  roi)_t;ciiial  to  tlicir  native 
llighlaiuls  as  tlic  biicli  ami  llic  pine  wliich  darken  their  gkiis,  tlic  sedge 
which  fringes  their  lakes,  or  the  heath  which  waves  over  their  moors." 
—  Quarterly  A\-7'hio,  May,  iSlo. 

"  It  is  honorable  to  Mr.  Scott's  genius  that  he  has  been  able  to  inter- 
est the  jjublic  so  deeply  with  this  third  presentment  of  the  same  chiv- 
alrous scenes;  but  we  cannot  helj)  thinking  that  both  liis  glorv  and  our 
gratification  would  have  been  greater  if  he  had  chaiigcil  liis  hand  moic 
coni])lctely,  and  actually  given  us  a  true  Celtic  story,  with  all  its  drapery 
and  accompaniments  in  a  corresponding  style  of  decoration.  Such  a 
subject,  we  arc  jjcrsuadcd,  has  very  great  capabilities,  and  only  wants  to 
be  introduced  to  jjublic  notice  by  such  a  hand  as  Mr.  Scott's  to  make  a 
still  more  powerful  impression  than  he  has  already  effected  1)y  the 
resurrection  of  the  tales  of  romance.  There  are  few  i)ersons,  we  believe, 
of  any  degree  of  jjoetical  susceptibility,  who  have  wandered  among  the 
secluded  valleys  of  the  Highlands,  and  contemplated  the  singular  peo 
ple  by  whom  they  are  still  tenanted  —  with  their  love  of  music  and  of 
song  —  their  hardy  and  irregular  life,  so  unlike  the  unvarying  toils  of 
the  Sa.xon  mechanic — their  devotion  to  their  chiefs  —  their  wild  and 
lofty  traditions  —  their  national  enthusiasm  —  the  melancholy  grandeur 
of  the  scenes  they  inhabit  — and  the  multiplied  superstitions  which  still 
linger  among  them  —  without  feeling  that  there  is  no  existing  people  so 
well  ada])ted  for  the  purjioses  of  poetry,  or  so  capabh-  of  furnishing  the 
occasions  of  new  and  striking  inventions. 

"  We  are  persuaded  that  if  Mr.  Scott's  powerful  and  creative  genius 
were  to  be  turned  in  good  earnest  to  such  a  subject,  something  might  lie 
l)r<iduce(l  still  more  impressive  and  original  than  even  this  age  has  yet 
witnessed."  —  Jkikki-.v,  /u/i>il'iiri;fi  AW/t-io,  No.  xvi.,  for  1810. 


THE 


LADY    OF    THE    LAKE. 


CANTO    FIRST. 

THE  CHASE. 

Harp  of  the  North  !  that  mouldering  long  hast  hung 

On  the  witch-elm  that  shades  Saint  Fillan's  spring. 
And  down  the  fitful  breeze  thy  numbers  flung,' 

Till  envious  ivy  did  around  thee  cling, 
Muffling  with  verdant  ringlet  every  string,  — 

O  minstrel  Harp,  still  must  thine  accents  sleep? 
Mid  rustling  leaves  and  fountains  murmuring, 

Still  must  thy  sweeter  sounds  their  silence  keep, 
Nor  bid  a  warrior  smile,  nor  teach  a  maid  to  weep  ? 

Not  thus,  in  ancient  days  of  Caledon, 

Was  thy  voice  mute  amid  the  festal  crowd, 

When  lay  of  hojDcless  love,  or  glory  won. 
Aroused  the  fearful,  or  subdued  the  proud. 

A  t  each  according  pause,  was  heard  aloud  ^ 

'  MS-  :  "And  o//  the  litful  breeze  thj  numbers  flung, 
Till  envious  ivv,  with  lier  verdant  ring, 
Mantled  and  muffled  each  melodious  string, — ■ 
OU7z'ir(/  Harp,  still  must  thine  accents  sleep?" 

*  MS. :  "  At  each  according  pause  thou  spokest  aloud 
Thine  ardent  sympathy." 


TJfK  LADY  OF   77/ /f   LAKE.  ICanto  l 


Tliiiie  ardent  symphony  sublime  and  high  ! 
Fair  dames  and  crested  chiefs  attention  bow'd 

r^or  still  the  burden  of  thy  minstrelsy 
Was  Knighthood's  dauntless  deed,  and  Beauty's  match 
less  eye. 

O  wake  once  more  !  how  rude  soe'er  the  hand 

That  ventures  o'er  thy  magic  maze  to  stray ; 
O  wake  once  more  !  though  scarce  my  skill  command 

Some  feeble  echoing  of  thine  earlier  lay  : 
Though  harsh  and  faint,  and  soon  to  die  away, 

And  all  unworthy  of  thy  nobler  strain, 
Yet  if  one  heart  tlii'ob  higher  at  its  sway, 

The  wizard  note  has  not  been  touch'd  in  vain. 
Then  silent  be  no  more  !    I'^nchantress,  wake  again  ! 


T. 

The  stag  at  eve  had  drunk  liis  fill. 
Where  danced  the  moon  on  INIonan's  rill, 
y^nd  deep  his  mi(hiight  lair  had  made 
In  lone  Cilenartney's  hazel  shade; 
liut,  wjien  the  sun  his  beacon  red 
Had  kindletl  on  Ikiivoirlich's  head, 
The  (leei)-moulh'd  bloodhound's  heavy  bay 
Resounded  up  the  rocky  way,' 

'  MS.  :   "The  Moudhoiiml's  iiolc^  nf  !i('a\_v  bass, 
Kcsoiiiulcii  hoarsely  up  llie  pass." 


Canto  I.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  23 

And  faint,  from  farther  distance  borne, 

Were  heard  the  clanging  hoof  and  horn.  • 

II. 

As  Chief  who  hears  his  warder  call, 

"  To  arms !  the  foemen  storm  the  wall," 

The  antler'd  monarch  of  the  waste 

Sprung  from  his  heathery  couch  in  haste. 

But,  ere  his  fleet  career  he  took. 

The  dewdrops  from  his  flanks  he  shook; 

Like  crested  leader  proud  and  high, 

Toss'd  his  beam'd  frontlet  to  the  sky; 

A  moment  gazed  adown  the  dale, 

A  moment  snuff'd  the  tainted  gale, 

A  moment  listen'd  to  the  cry, 

That  thicken'd  as  the  chase  drew  nigh; 

Then,  as  the  headmost  foes  appear' d, 

With  one  brave  bound  the  copse  he  clear'd, 

And,  stretching  forward  free  and  far, 

Sought  the  wild  heaths  of  Uam-Var.' 

'  Ua-var,  as  the  name  is  pronounced,  or  more  properly  Uaii^k' 
mot%  is  a  mountain  to  the  northeast  of  the  village  of  Callender 
irj  Menteith,  deriving  its  name,  which  signifies  the  great  den  or 
cavern,  from  a  sort  of  retreat  among  the  rocks  on  the  south  side, 
said,  by  tradition,  to  have  been  the  abode  of  a  giant.  In  latter 
times  it  was  the  refuge  of  robbers  and  banditti,  who  have  been  only 
extirpated  within  these  forty  or  fifty  j-ears.  Strictly  speaking,  this 
stronghold  is  not  a  cave,  as  the  name  would  imply,  but  a  sort  of 
small  enclosure,  or  recess,  surrounded  with  large  rocks,  and  open 
above  head.  It  may  have  been  originally  designed  as  a  toil  for  deer, 
who  might  get  in  from  the  outside,  but  would  find  it  difficult  to 
return.  This  opinion  nrcvails  among  the  old  sportsmen  and  deei^ 
stalkers  in  tlie  neighborhood. 


THE  L.U))'  OF  THE  LAKE.  fCANTo  \ 


III. 

Ycll'd  on  the  view  the  openinj^  pack ; 
Rock,  glen,  and  cavern,  paid  them  back ; 
To  many  a  mingled  sound  at  once 
The  awaken'd  mountain  gave  response, 
A  hundred  dogs  bay'd  deep  and  strong, 
Clattcr'd  a  hundred  steeds  along, 
Their  peal  the  merry  horns  rung  out, 
A  hundred  voices  join'd  the  shout ; 
With  hark  and  whoop  and  wild  halloo, 
No  rest  Benvoirlich's  echoes  knew,' 
Far  from  the  tumult  fled  the  roe, 
Close  in  her  covert  cowerM  the  doe. 
The  falcon,  from  her  cairn  on  high, 
Cast  on  the  rout  a  wondering  eye. 
Till  far  beyond  her  piercing  ken 
The  hurricane  had  swept  the  glen. 
Faint,  and  more  faint,  its  failing  din 
Return'd  from  cavern,  cliff,  and  linn, 
And  silence  settled,  wide  and  still, 
On  the  lone  wood  and  mighty  hUl. 

IV. 

Less  loud  the  sounds  of  sylvan  war 
Disturb'd  the  heights  of  Uam-Var, 

'  ncnvoirlich,  a  mountain  romproliondid  in  tin:  clii-.tt-r  of 
Ihi,'  Grampians,  at  tlu-  li.ad  of  the  valli-v  of  liic  C;anv.  a  river  wliirh 
sprin-jsfrom  its  base.  It  risi-s  loan  ili-v.ilion  oniini-  tlimisaiul  tlireo 
iuindrcd  and  thirty  Icct  abuvc  the  level  of  the  sea. 


Canto  I.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  25 

And  roused  the  cavern,  where,  'tis  told, 
A  giant  made  his  den  of  old ; 
For  ere  that  steep  ascent  was  won, 
High  in  his  pathway  hung  the  sun, 
And  many  a  gallant,  stayed  perforce, 
Was  fain  to  breathe  his  faltering  horse 
And  of  the  trackers  of  the  deer. 
Scarce  half  the  lessening  pack  was  near ; 
So  shrewdly  on  the  mountain  side 
Had  the  bold  burst  their  mettle  tried. 

V. 

The  noble  stag  was  pausing  now. 
Upon  the  mountain's  southern  brow. 
Where  broad  extended,  far  beneath, 
The  varied  realms  of  fair  Menteith, 
With  anxious  eye  he  wander'd  o'er 
Mountain  and  meadow,  moss  and  moor. 
And  ponder' d  refuge  from  his  toil, 
By  far  Lochard '  or  Aberfoyle. 

'  "About  a  mile  to  the  westward  of  the  inn  of  Aberfoj'Ie, 
Lochard  opens  to  the  view.  A  few  hundred  yards  to  the  east  of  it, 
the  Avendow,  which  had  just  issued  from  tlie  lake,  tumbles  its 
waters  over  a  rugged  precipice  of  more  than  thirty  feet  in  height, 
•forming,  in  the  rainy  season,  several  very  magnificent  cataracts. 

"The  first  opening  of  the  lower  lake,  from  the  east,  is  uncom- 
nonly  picturesque.  Directing  the  eye  nearly  westward,  Benlomond 
raises  its  pyramidal  mass  in  the  background.  In  nearer  prospect, 
you  have  gentle  eminences,  covered  with  oak  and  birch  to  the  very 
summit;  the  bare  rock  sometimes  peeping  through  amongst  the 
clumps.  Immediately  under  the  eye.  tlie  lower  lake,  stretching  out 
from  narrow  beginnings  to  a  breadth  of  about  half  a  mile,  is  seen  in 


26  THE   LAD)'   ('/•"    J'JIi:    I..\Ki:.  [cant..  I, 

But  nearer  was  tlie  copscwood  gray, 
That  waved  and  wept  on  Loch- Aeh ray, 
And  mingled  with  the  pine-trees  blue 
(^n  the  bokl  cliffs  of  15envenue. 
Fresh  vigor  with  the  hope  return'd,' 
With  flying  foot  the  heath  he  spurn'd, 

full  prospect.  Un  the  rii^lit,  the  banks  are  skirted  with  extensive  oak 
woods,  which  cover  the  mountain  more  tlian  half  way  up. 

"Advancing  to  the  westward,  the  view  of  the  lake  is  lost  for  ahout 
a  mile.  The  upper  lake,  which  is  by  far  the  most  extensive,  is  sepa- 
rated from  the  lower  by  a  stream  of  about  two  hundred  yards  in  length. 
The  most  advantageous  view  of  the  upper  lake  presents  itself  from 
a  rising  ground  near  its  lower  e.xtrennty,  where  a  footpath  strikes  off 
to  the  south,  in  the  wood  that  overhangs  this  connecting  stream. 
Looking  westward,  Kenlomond  is  seen  in  the  background,  rising,  at 
the  distance  of  six  miles,  in  the  form  of  a  regular  cone,  its  sides  jire- 
senting  a  gentle  slope  to  the  northwest  and  southeast.  On  tlie  right  is 
the  lofty  momitain  of  IJenoghric,  running  west  towards  the  deep  vale 
in  which  I.ochon  lies  concealed  from  the  eye.  In  the  foreground, 
I.ochard  stretches  out  to  the  west  in  fairest  prospect;  its  length  three 
miles,  and  its  breadth  a  mile  and  a  half.  On  the  right  it  is  skirted  with 
woods  ;  the  northern  and  western  extremity  of  the  lake  is  diversified 
with  meadows,  and  cornfields,  and  farm-houses.  On  the  left,  few  marks 
of  cultivation  are  to  be  seen. 

"  Farther  on,  the  traveller  passes  along  the  verge  of  tlie  lake  under 
a  ledge  of  rock,  from  thirty  to  fifty  feet  high  ;  and,  standing  immedi- 
ately under  this  rock,  towards  its  western  extremity,  he  has  a  double 
echo  of  uncommon  distinctness.  Upon  i)ron'ouncing,  with  a  firm  voice, 
a  line  of  ten  syllables,  it  is  returned,  first  from  the  opposite  side  of  the 
lake;  and  when  that  is  finislicd,  it  is  repeated  with  c(|ual  distinctness 
from  the  wood  on  the  cast.  The  day  must  be  perfectly  calm,  and  the 
lake  as  smooth  as  glass,  for  otherwise  no  hinnan  voice  can  be  returned 
from  a  distance  «)f  at  least  a  quarter  of  a  mile."  —  CiKAIIAM's  Sketches 
of  Pert/is/iire,  2d  edit.  ji.  1S2,  etc. 

'  M.S.  :  "  Fresh  vigor  with  the  t'it'iit;/il  ntnin'd. 
With  living  //<>./  the  healh  h<   <-i.Mi!rd." 


Canto  I.]  THE   LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  27 


Held  westward  with  unwearied  race, 
And  left  behind  the  panting  chase. 

VI. 

'Twcre  long  to  tell  what  steeds  gave  o'er, 
As  swept  the  hunt  through  Cambus-more  ;  ^ 
What  reins  were  tighten'd  in  despair, 
When  rose  Benledi's  ridge  in  air ; 
Who  flagged  upon  Bochastle's  heath, 
Who  shunn'd  to  stem  the  flooded  Teith  — ^ 
For  twice  that  day,  from  shore  to  shore, 
The  gallant  stag  swam  stoutly  o'er. 
Few  were  the  stragglers,  following  far. 
That  reached  the  lake  of  Vennachar;* 
And  when  the  Brigg  of  Turk  was  won,^ 
The  headmost  horseman  rode  alone. 

1  Catiiluis-inore,  within  about  two  miles  of  Callender,  on  the  wooded 
banks  of  the  Keltic,  a  tributary  of  the  Teith,  is  the  seat  of  a  family 
of  the  name  of  Buchanan,  whom  the  poet  frequently  visited  in  his 
younger  days. 

-  Benledi  is  a  magnificent  mountain,  three  thousand  and  nine  feet 
in  height,  which  bounds  the  horizon  on  the  northwest  from  Callender. 
The  name,  according  to  Celtic  etymologists,  signifies  the  jMoimlain 
of  God. 

2  Two  mountain  streams  —  the  one  flowing  from  I.och  Voil,  by  the 
pass  of  Leny;  the  other  from  Loch-Katrine,  by  I.och  Achray  and 
Loch  Vennachar,  unite  at  Callender:  and  the  river  thus  formed  thence- 
forth takes  the  name  of  Teith.  ■  Hence  the  designation  of  the  territory 
of  Menteith. 

•*  "  Loch  Vennachar,  a  beautiful  expanse  of  water,  of  about  five  miles 
in  length,  by  a  mile  and  a  half  in  breadth."  —  Graham. 

5"Al50ut  a  mile  above  Loch  Vennachar,  the  approach  (from  the 
east),  to  the  Bri^',i,'  or  Bn't/Qg  of  Turk  (the  scene  of  the  death  of  a  wild- 
boar  famous   in   Celtic   tradition),  leads  to   the  summit  of  an  eminence, 


28  Tin-:  i.ADv  OF  Tin:  lake.         [canto  i. 

vir. 

Alone,  but  with  unbatcd  zeal, 
That  ht)rscman  i)liccl  the  se()ur<,^e  aiul  steel; 
I-'oi"  jaded  now,  and  spent  with  toil, 
I'Lniboss'd  with  foam,  antl  dark  with  soil, 
While  every  gasp  with  sobs  he  drew, 
The  laboring;  stagstrain'd  full  in  view. 
Two  dogs  of  black  Saint  Hubert's  breed, 
Unniatch'd  for  courage,  breath,  and  speed,' 


eminence,  where  tlicre  hurst''  upon  the  lr:ivcllor"s  eve  a  sudden  and 
wide  prospect  of  the  wiiuiiiit^s  of  tlie  ri\er  tliat  issues  from  Locli 
Aiiiray,  witii  that  sweet  hike  itself  in  front;  tiie-.i(entiv  rollirm  river 
pursues  its  serpentine  course  throuj^h  an  extensive  meadow;  at  the 
west  end  of  the  lake  on  the  side  of  Al)erfov!e  is  situated  the  deiii^ht- 
ful  farm  of  Acliray,  the  level  Jiehi,  a  denomination  justly  due  to  it, 
when  considered  in  contrast  with  the  rugged  rocks  and  mountains 
which  surround  it.  From  this  eminence  are  to  he  seen  also,  on  the 
right  hand,  the  entrance  to  Glenfinlas,  and  in  the  ilistance  Hen- 
venue." —  (JK.MIA.M. 

'  "The  houniis  which  we  call  Saint  lluhert's  hounds  are  com- 
monly all  biacke.  yet,  neuertheless,  the  race  is  so  mingled  at  these 
days,  that  we  find  them  of  all  colours.  These  are  the  hounds  which 
the  abbots  of  St.  Hubert  haue  always  kept  some  of  their  race  or  kind 
in  honour  or  remembrance  of  the  saint,  which  was  ;i  hunter  with 
S.  Eustace.  Whrreujion  we  may  conceiue  that  (by  the  grace f)f  (iod) 
all  good  huntsmen  shall  follow  them  into  paraiiise.  To  return  vnto 
mv  former  purpovf.  this  kinil  of  dogges  hath  bene  dispersed  through 
the  counties  of  llinault.  Loryne.  Flanders,  and  Rurgoyne.  They 
are  mightv  of  body,  neuertheless  (heir  legges  are  low  and  short, 
likewise  thev  are  not  swift,  although  they  be  very  good  of  sent, 
hunting  chaccs  which  are  farrc  straggled,  fearing  neither  water  nor 
rr.ld.  ;ind  doe  more  coiiet  the  chaccs  that  sim-ll.  as  foxes,  bore,  and 
such  like,  than  other,  becausi-  tln-y  find  themselves  neither  of  swifl- 
ncsK  nor  rnurage  to  hunt  ami  kill  the  cIkucs  thai  are  lighter  and 
swifter,     'ihe    bloodhounds    <if  this   c<ilour    pioue   good,    especially' 


Canto  I.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  20 

Fast  on  his  flying  traces  came, 

And  all  but  won  that  desperate  game  ; 

For,  scarce  a  spear's  length  from  his  haunch 

Vindictive  toil'd  the  bloodhounds  stanch  ; 

Nor  nearer  might  the  dogs  attain, 

Nor  farther  might  the  quarry  strain. 

Thus  up  the  margin  of  the  lake, 

Between  the  precipice  and  brake, 

O'er  stock  and  rock  their  race  they  take. 

VIII. 

The  Hunter  mark'd  that  mountain  high. 
The  lone  lake's  western  boundary, 
And  deem'd  the  stag  must  turn  to  bay, 
Where  that  huge  rampart  barr'd  the  way  ; 
Already  glorying  in  the  prize. 
Measured  his  antlers  with  his  eyes  ; 
For  the  death-wound  and  death-halloo, 
Muster'd  his  breath,  his  whinyard  drew;  — ' 

those  that  are  cole  blacke,  but  I  made  no  great  account  to  breed  on 
them,  or  to  keepe  the  kind,  and  yet  I  found  a  book  which  a  hunter 
did  dedicate  to  a  prince  of  Lorayne,  which  seemed  to  !oue  Inmting 
much,  wherein  was  a  blason  which  the  same  hunter  gaue  to  his 
bloodhound,  called  Souyllard,  which  was  white:  — 

"  My  name  came  first  fmm  holy  Hubert's  race, 
Souyllard  my  sire,  a  hound  of  sm2:ular  grace." 

Whereupon  we  may  presume  that  some  of  the  kind  proue  white 
sometimes,  but  they  are  not  of  the  kind  of  the  Greffiers  or  Bouxes, 
which  we  haue  at  these  davs." —  The  noble  art  of  Veuerie  or  Htint- 
f'liff,  tnaislated  and  collected  for  the  Use  of  all  N'obiemen  and 
Gentlemen.     Lond.    1611,  4to,  p.  15. 

'  When    the    stag    turned    to    bay,    the    ancient   hunter    had    the 
perilous  task  of  going  in  upon  and  killing  or  disabling  the  desperate 


Till:    L.\n\     Ol-    THE   LAKE.  [Canto  1. 


Ikit  tluiiulcriuL;  as  became  prcparctl, 
With  ready  arm  aiul  weapon  baretl, 
The  wily  quarry  shunn'd  the  shock, 
And  turn'd  him  from  the  opposing-  rock  ; 
Then,  dashin<;  down  a  darksome  <;len, 
Soon  lost  to  hound  and  hunter's  ken, 

animal.  At  certain  times  of  tlie  year  tliis  was  licld  particularly 
daniierous,  a  wouiui  received  from  a  stag's  horn  beini;:  then  deemed 
poisonous,  and  more  dangerous  than  one  from  the  tusk  of  a  hoar,  as 
the  old  rhyme  testifies  :  — 

"  If  tliou  be  liiirt  with  liart,  it  brin^js  thoc  to  thy  bier, 
Hut  barber's  hand  will  boar's  hurt  heal,  therefore  thou  necd'st  not  fiar." 

At  all  times,  liowever,  the  task  was  dangerous,  and  to  he  adventured 
upon  wisely  and  warily,  either  by  getting  behind  the  stag  wliile  he 
was  gazing  on  the  hounds,  or  by  watelung  an  opportunity  to  gallop 
roundly  in  upon  him,  and  kill  him  with  the  sword.  See  many  direc- 
tions to  this  purpose  in  the  Bookc  of  Hunting,  chap.  41.  Wilson, 
the  liistorian,  has  recorded  a  most  providential  escape  which  befell 
him  in  this  iuizardous  sport,  while  a  youth  and  fcjlWnver  of  tiie  Karl 
of  l^s^ex. 

"  Sir  I'eter  Lee.  of  Lime,  in  Cheshire,  inviteti  my  lord  one  smn- 
mcr  to  hunt  the  stagg.  .\nd  having  a  great  stagg  in  chase,  and  many 
gentlemen  in  the  pursuit,  the  stagg  took  soyle.  And  divers,  whereof 
1  was  one,  alighted,  and  stood  with  swords  drawne,  to  have  a  cut  at 
him,  at  iiis  coming  out  of  the  water.  The  staggs  there  being 
wonderful Iv  fierce  and  dangerous,  made  us  youths  more  eager  to  be 
at  him.  IJut  he  escaped  us  all.  And  it  was  my  misfortune  to  be 
hindered  of  my  coming  nere  him.  the  way  being  sliperie,  by  a  falle; 
which  gave  occa-ion  to  some,  who  did  not  know  mee,  to  speak  as  if 
I  had  falne  for  feare.  Which  being  told  mee,  I  left  the  stagg.  and 
followed  the  gentleman  who  [first]  spake  it.  l?ut  I  found  him  of 
that  cold  temper,  that  it  seems  his  words  made  an  escape  from  him; 
as  bv  his  denial  and  repentance  it  appeareii.  I'.ut  this  made  mee 
more  violent  in  the  pursuit  of  the  stagg.  to  recover  my  reputation. 
And  I  happeni'd  to  be  the  only  horseman  in,  when  the  tiogs  sett  him 
up  at  bay.  and  approaching  near  him  on  horsebacke,  he  broke 
through  the  dogs,  and  run  at  mee,  and  tore  my  horse's  side  wit\i  his 


Canto  I.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  3 1 


111  the  deep  Trosachs' '  wildest  nook 

His  solitary  refuge  took. 

There,  while  close  coiich'd,  the  thicket  shed 

Cold  dews  and  wild-flowers  on  his  head, 

He  heard  the  baffled  dogs  in  vain 

Rave  through  the  hollow  pass  amain, 

Chiding  the  rocks  that  yell'd  again. 

IX. 

Close  on  the  hounds  the  Hunter  came, 
To  cheer  them  on  the  vanished  game ; 
But  stumbling  in  the  rugged  dell. 
The  gallant  horse  exhausted  fell. 
The  impatient  rider  strove  in  vain 
To  rouse  him  with  the  spur  and  rein, 
For  the  good  steed,  his  labors  o'er^ 
Stretch'd  his  stiff  limbs,  to  rise  no  more  ; 
Then,  touch'd  with  pity  and  remorse, 
He  sorrow'd  o'er  the  expiring  horse. 
"  I  little  thought,  when  first  thy  rein 
I  slack'd  upon  the  banks  of  Seine, 
That  Highland  eagle  e'er  should  feed 
On  tny  fleet  limbs,  my  matchless  steed  ! 

homes  close  by  my  thigh.  Then  I  quitted  my  horse,  and  grew  more 
cunning  (for  the  dogs  had  sette  him  up  again),  stealing  behind  him 
with  my  sword,  and  cut  his  hamstrings  ;  and  then  got  upon  his  back, 
and  cut  his  throate :  which,  as  I  was  doing,  the  company  came  in, 
and  blamed  my  rashness  for  running  such  a  hazard." —  Peck's 
Desiderata    Cuj-iosa,  ii.  464. 

'  "The  term  Trosachs  signifies  the  rough  or  bristled  territory.'' 
—  Graham. 


32  THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  [Canto  L 

Woe  worth  the  ehase,  woe  worth  the  ilay, 
That  costs  tliy  life,  my  j^allant  j,ray ! " 

X. 

Then  throii<;h  the  dell  his  horn  resounds, 
From  vain  ]nirsuit  to  call  the  hounds. 
Back  limp'd,  with  slow  and  crippled  pace, 
The  sulky  leaders  of  the  chase  ; 
Close  to  their  master's  side  they  prcss'd, 
With  drooping^  tail,  and  humbled  crest ; 
But  still  the  din<;le's  hollow  throat 
Prolong'd  the  swelling  bugle-note. 
The  owlets  started  from  their  dream, 
The  eagles  answerVl  with  tluir  scream, 
Round  and  around  the  sounds  were  cast, 
Till  echo  seem'd  an  answering  blast  ; 
And  on  the  Hunter  hied  his  way,' 
To  join  some  comrades  of  the  day  ; 
Yet  often  paused,  so  strange  the  road. 
So  wondrous  were  the  scenes  it  show'd. 

XI. 
The  western  waves  of  ebbing  day 
Roll'd  o'er  the  glen  their  level  way; 
l^ach  inujile  jK-ak,  each  flinty  spire. 
Was  bathed  in  floods  of  living  fire, 
l^ut  not  a  setting  beam  could  glow 
Within  the  dark  ravines  below, 

'  MS.  ■   "  Ami  on  the  hiiiiliT  liioti  his  pace. 

To  ;;/'•<•/  some  comrades  of  tlic  chasr.'" 


Canto  I.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  H 

Where  twined  the  path  in  shadow  hid, 

Round  many  a  rocky  pyramid. 

Shooting  abruptly  from  the  dell 

Its  thunder-splinter'd  pinnacle ; 

Round  many  an  insulated  mass, 

The  native  bulwarks  of  the  pass,' 

Husfe  as  the  tower  which  builders  vain 

Presumptuous  piled  on  Shinar's  plain/ 

The  rocky  summits,  split  and  rent, 

Form'd  turret,  dome,  or  battlement. 

Or  seem'd  fantastically  set 

With  cupola  or  minaret. 

Wild  crests  as  pagod  ever  deck'd, 

Or  mosque  of  Eastern  architect. 

Nor  were  these  earth-born  castles  bare,' 

Nor  lack'd  they  many  a  banner  fair  ; 

For,  from  their  shiver'd  brows  displayed. 

Far,  o'er  the  unfat'nomable  glade. 

All  twinkling  with  the  dewdrops  sheen,'* 

The  brier-rose  fell  in  streamers  green, 

And  creeping  shrubs,  of  thousand  dyes. 

Waved  in  the  west-wind's  summer  sighs. 

XII. 

Boon  nature  scatter'd  free  and  wild, 

Each  plant  or  flower,  the  mountain's  child. 

'  MS.  :  "  The  mimic  castles  of  the  pass." 

"^  The  Tower  of  Babel.  — Genesis,  xi.  1-9. 

^  MS.  :   "  Nor  were  these  mighty  bulwarks  bare." 

*  MS-  :  "  Bright  glistening  with  the  dewdrops  sheen." 


34  THE   LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  [Canto  I. 


Jlcrc  eglantine  embalm'tl  the  air, 

Hawthorn  and  hazel  mingled  there  ; 

The  primrose  pale  and  violet  flower, 

Found  in  each  clift  a  narrow  bower  ; 

Fox-glove  and  night-shade,  side  by  side, 

Emblems  of  punishment  and  pride, 

Group'd  their  dark  hues  with  every  stain 

The  weather-beaten  crags  retain. 

With  boughs  that  quaked  at  every  breath, 

Gray  birch  and  aspen  wept  beneath  ; 

Aloft,  the  ash  and  warrior  oak 

Cast  anchor  in  the  rifted  rock  ; 

And,  higher  yet.  the  pine-tree  hung 

His  shatter'd  trunk,  and  frequent  flung,' 

Where  seem'd  the  cliffs  to  meet  on  high. 

His  boughs  athwart  the  narrow'd  sky. 

Highest  of  all,  where  white  peaks  glanced, 

Where  glist'ning  streamers  waved  and  danced. 

The  wanderer's  eye  could  barely  view 

The  summer  heaven's  delicious  blue  ; 

So  wondrous  wild,  the  whole  might  seem 

The  scenery  of  a  fairy  dream. 

MS.  :  "  Ilis  scallird  trunk,  and  frequent  flun?. 

Wlicrc  sccm'ci  the  clilTs  to  meet  on  lii'.;h, 
His  rus^i^fd  arms  athwart  the  sky. 
Ilifjhest  of  all.  where  white  peaks  glanced. 
Where  /t''///X7///^'' streamers  waved  and  ilaneed." 


Canto  I.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  35 

XIII. 

Onward,  amid  the  copse  'gan  peep 
A  narrow  inlet,  still  and  deep, 
Affording  scarce  such  breadth  of  brim,* 
As  served  the  wild  duck's  brood  to  swim. 
Lost  for  a  space,  through  thickets  veering, 
But  broadei'  when  again  appearing, 
Tall  rocks  and  tufted  knolls  their  face 
Could  on  the  dark-blue  mirror  trace ; 
■And  farther  as  the  Hunter  stray'd, 
Still  broader  s^v^eep  its  channels  made. 
The  shaggy  mounds  no  longer  stood, 
Emerging  from  entangled  wood,^ 
But,  wave-encircled,  seem'd  to  float, 
Like  castle  girdled  with  its  moat ; 
Yet  broader  floods  extending  still 
Divide  them  from  their  parent  hill, 
Till  each,  retiring,  claims  to  be 
An  islet  in  an  inland  sea. 

XIV. 

And  now,  to  issue  from  the  glen. 
No  pathway  meets  the  wanderer's  ken, 
Unless  he  climb,  with  footing  nice, 
A  far  projecting  precipice.^ 

'  MS. :  "Affording  scarce  such  breadth  of  flood, 

As  served  to  float  the  wild-duck's  brood." 
^  MS.  :   "  Emerging  drj'-shod  from  the  \i'ood." 
•^  Until  the  present  road  was  made  through  the  romantic  pass 


36  THE  LADY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [Canto  [. 


The  broom's  toui;h  roots  his  kicltlcr  made, 

The  hazel  saplings  lent  tlicir  aid  ; 

And  thus  an  airy  point  lie  won, 

Where,  gleaming  with  the  setting  sun, 

One  burnish'd  sheet  of  living  gold, 

Loch  Katrine  lay  beneath  him  roll'd,' 

In  all  her  length  far  winding  lay. 

With  promontory,  creek,  and  Ixiy, 

And  islands  that,  empurpled  bright, 

Floated  amid  the  livelier  light. 

And  mountains,  that  like  giants  stand, 

To  sentinel  enchanted  land. 

High  on  tb.e  south,  huge  Ik-nvenuc^ 

Down  on  the  lake  in  masses  threw 

Crags,  knolls,  antl  mounds,  confusedly  hurl'd, 

The  fragments  of  an  earlier  world  ; 

A  wildering  forest  feather'd  o'er 

His  ruin'd  sides  and  summit  hoar,^ 

which  I  liavc  prcsuniptuoiisly  attempted  to  (Jcscril)c  in  llic  preceding 
etanzns,  there  was  no  mode  of  issuing  out  of  the  defile  called  the 
Trosaclis  excepting  by  a  sort  ol"  ladder,  composed  of  the  branches 
antl  roots  of  trees. 

'  Loch-Ketturin  is  the  Celtic  pronunciation.  In  his  Notes  toThc 
Fair  Maiil  of  Perth,  the  author  has  sij^nified  his  belief  that  the  lake 
was  named  after  the  Catfcrins,  or  wild  robbers,  who  haunted  its 
shores. 

'  nenvenur  —  is  literally  the  little  mountain  —  i.  c,  as  contrasted 
with  Benledi  and  Henlomond. 

■'  MS.:  "  His  ruined  sides  and  frd^inrii/s  hoar 
While  on  the  north  to  middle  air." 


Canto  I.]  THE  LADV  OF   THE  LAKE.  37 


While  on  the  north,  through  middle  air, 
Ben-an  '  heaved  high  his  foreheaa  bare.^ 

XV. 

From  the  steep  promontory  gazed  ^ 

The  stranger,  raptured  and  amazed. 

And,  "What  a  scene  were  here,"  he  cried, 

"  For  princely  pomp,  or  churchman's  pride  ! 

On  this  bold  brow,  a  lordly  tower  ; 

In  that  soft  vale,  a  lady's  bower ; 

On  yonder  meadow,  far  away, 

The  turrets  of  a  cloister  gray  ; 

How  blithely  might  the  bugle-horn 

Chide,  on  the  lake,  the  lingering  morn  ! 

How  sweet,  at  eve,  the  lover's  lute 

Chime,  when  the  groves  were  still  and  mute ! 

And,  when  the  midnight  moon  should  lave 

Her  forehead  in  the  silver  wave, 

1  According  to  Graham,  Ben-an,  or  Bennan,  is  a  mere  diminutive 
oi  Ben  —  Mountain. 

^  Perhaps  the  art  of  landscape-painting  in  poetry  has  never  been 
displayed  in  higher  perfection  than  in  these  stanzas,  to  which  rigid 
criticism  might  j^ossibly  object  that  the  picture  is  somewhat  too 
minute,  and  that  the  contemplation  of  it  detains  the  traveller  some- 
what too  long  from  the  main  purpose  of  his  pilgrimage,  but  which 
it  would  be  an  act  of  the  greatest  injustice  to  break  into  fragments, 
and  present  by  piecemeal.  Not  so  the  magnificent  scene  which 
bursts  upon  the  bewildered  hunter  as  he  emerges  at  length  fi-om  the 
dell,  and  commands  at  one  view  the  beautiful  expanse  of  Loch  Kat- 
rine."—  Critical  Rcvie-.v,  August,  1820. 

'  MS.  :   "  From  the  high  promontory  gazed 

The  stranger,  awc-stritck  and  amazed-" 


3«  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  [Canto  L 


How  solemn  on  the  ear  would  come 
The  holy  matins'  distant  hum, 
While  the  deep  peal's  commanding  tone 
Should  wake,  in  yonder  islet  lone, 
A  sainted  hermit  from  his  cell, 
To  drop  a  bead  with  every  knell  — 
And  bugle,  lute,  and  bell,  and  all. 
Should  each  bewilder' d  stranger  call 
To  friendly  feast  and  lighted  hall.' 

XVI. 

"  Blithe  were  it  then  to  wander  here  ! 
Wwl  now,  — beshrew  yon  nimble  deer,  — 
Like  that  same  hermit's,  thin  and  spare. 
The  copse  must  give  my  evening  fare  ; 
Some  mossy  bank  my  couch  must  be, 
Some  rustling  oak  my  canopy.'' 
Yet  pass  we  that  ;  the  war  and  chase 
Give  little  choice  of  resting-place;  — 
A  summer  night,  in  greenwood  spent, 
Were  but  to-morrow's  merriment  : 
But  hosts  may  in  these  wilds  al^ound, 
Such  as  arc  better  missed  than  found  ; 
To  meet  with  Highland  {blunderers  here, 
\\'ere  worse  than  loss  of  steed  or  deer.  — ^ 

'  MS.:   "To  hospitahk-  feast  and  hall." 

•  MS.  :   "  A)i(l  liolloxv  triitik  of  sotiiv  nld  tree, 
Afv  chtiinbrr  for  thr  i/i'i^^/if  ttiiisl  tv." 

•*  Tlip  clans  who  inhahilrd  the-  idinantic  rcyions  in  the  nci{;h- 
borhofjcl  of  I.och  K.-ilrim*.  win-,  even  nntil  a  lalc  period,  much  ad- 
dicted to  predatory  excursions  upon  their  Lowland  neii;hhors.     "  In 


Canto  I.]  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  39 


I  am  alone  ;  —  my  bugle-strain 
May  call  some  straggler  of  the  train, 
Or,  fall  the  worst  that  may  betide, 
Ere  now  this  falchion  has  been  tried." 

XVIL 

But  scarce  again  his  horn  he  wound,' 
When  lo  !  forth  starting  at  the  sound, 
From  underneath  an  aged  oak. 
That  slanted  from  the  islet  rock, 
A  damsel  guider  of  its  way, 
A  little  skiff  shot  to  the  bay,^ 

former  times,  those  parts  of  this  district,  which  are  situated  beyond 
the  Grampian  range,  were  rendered  almost  inaccessible  by  strong 
barriers  of  rocks,  and  mountains,  and  lakes.  It  was  a  border 
country,  and  though  on  the  very  verge  of  the  low  country,  it  was 
almost  totally  sequestered  from  the  world,  and,  as  it  were,  insulated 
with  respect  to  society.  'Tis  well  known  that  in  the  Highlands  it 
was,  in  former  times,  accounted  not  only  lawful,  but  honorable, 
among  hostile  tribes,  to  commit  depredations  on  one  another;  and 
these  habits  of  the  age  were  perhaps  strengthened  in  this  district  by 
the  circumstances  which  have  been  mentioned.  It  bordered  on  a 
country,  the  inhabitants  of  which,  while  they  were  richer,  were  less 
v/arlike  than  they,  and  widely  differenced  by  language  and  manners." 
—  Graham's  Sketches  of  Sceiio-y  in  Perthshire.,  Edin.-  iSo6,  p.  97. 
The  reader  will  therefore  be  pleased  to  remember,  that  the  scene  of 
this  poemi  is  laid  in  a  time,  — 

"  Wheo  tooming  faulds,  or  sweeping  of  a  glen, 
Had  still  been  held  the  deed  of  gallant  men." 

*  MS.  :  "  The  bugle  shrill  again  he  wound, 

And  lo  !  forth  starting  at  the  sound." 

''■  MS.  :   "  A  little  skiff"  shot  to  the  bay. 

The  Hunter  left  his  airy  stand. 
And  when  the  boat  had  touch'd  the  sand, 
Conceal'd  he  stood  amid  the  brake. 
To  view  this  Lady  of  the  Lake." 


40  THE  LADY  OF   THE   Elk'E.  [Canto  L 


That  round  the  promontory  steep 

Led  its  deep  line  in  graceful  sweep, 

Eddying,  in  almost  viewless  wave, 

The  weeping  willow  twig  to  lave. 

And  kiss,  with  whispering  sound  and  slow, 

The  beach  of  pebbles  bright  as  snow. 

The  boat  had  touch 'd  this  silver  strand, 

Just  as  the  Hunter  left  his  stand, 

And  stood  conceal'd  amid  the  brake, 

To  view  this  Lady  of  the  Lake. 

The  maiden  paused,  as  if  again 

She  thought  to  catch  the  distant  strain. 

With  head  up-raised,  and  look  intent, 

And  eye  and  ear  attentive  bent. 

And  locks  flung  back,  and  lips  apart. 

Like  monument  of  Grecian  art. 

In  listening  mood,  she  seem'd  to  stand 

The  guardian  Naiad  of  the  strand. 

XVIII. 

And  ne'er  did  Grecian  chisel  trace  ' 

A  Nymj)h,  a  Naiad,  or  a  Grace, 

Of  finer  form,  or  lovelier  face  ! 

What  though  the  sun  with  ardent  frown, 

Had  .slightly  tinged  her  cheek  with  brown,  — 

The  sportive  toil,  which,  short  and  light, 

Mad  dyed  her  glowing  hue  so  bright, 

*  MS.  •   '•  .'\  finer  form,  .i  fairer  face, 

Had  never  marble  Nvmpli  or  Grace, 
That  boablb  tlic  Grecian  chisel's  trace.' 


Canto  I.]  2^ HE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  4 1 

Served  too  in  hastier  swell  to  show 
Short  glimpses  of  a  breast  of  snow  : 
What  though  no  rule  of  courtly  grace 
To  measured  mood  had  train'd  her  pace,  — 
A  foot  more  light,  a  step  more  true, 
Ne'er  from  the  heath-flower  dash'd  the  dew ; 
E'en  the  slight  harebell  raised  its  head, 
Elastic  from  her  airy  tread  : 
What  though  upon  her  speech  there  hung 
The  accents  of  the  mountain  tongue,  — ' 
Those  silver  sounds,  so  soft,  so  clear, 
The  list'ner  held  his  breath  to  hear  ! 

XIX. 

A  Chieftain's  daughter  seem'd  the  maid; 
Her  satin  snood,^  her  silken  plaid, 
Her  golden  brooch,  such  birth  betray'd. 
And  seldom  was  a  snood  amid 
Such  wild  luxuriant  ringlets  hid, 
Whose  glossy  black  to  shame  might  brin^ 
The  plumage  of  the  raven's  wing ; 
And  seldom  o'er  a  breast  so  fair. 
Mantled  a  plaid  with  modest  care, 
And  never  brooch  the  folds  combined 
Above  a  heart  more  good  and  kind. 
Her  kindness  and  her  worth  to  spy, 
You  need  but  gaze  on  Ellen's  eye  : 

1  MS.  :   "  The  accents  of  a  straiiger  tongue." 
See  Note  -posi    on  Canto  III.  stanzr.  5. 


42  THE  L.IDV  OF   THE   LAKE.  LCanto  I 


Not  Katrine,  in  her  mirror  blue, 

Gives  back  the  shaggy  banks  more  true, 

Than  every  free-born  glance  confess'd 

The  guileless  movements  of  her  breast ; 

Whether  joy  danced  in  her  dark  eye, 

Or  woe  or  pity  claim'd  a  sigh, 

Or  filial  love  was  glowing  there, 

Or  meek  devotion  poured  a  prayer, 

Or  tale  of  injury  called  forth 

The  indignant  spirit  of  the  North. 

One  only  passion  unreveal'd, 

W^ith  maiden  pride  the  maid  conccal'd, 

Yet  not  less  purely  felt  the  flame  ;  — 

O  need  I  tell  that  passion's  name ! 

XX. 

Impatient  of  the  silent  horn. 

Now  on  the  gale  her  voice  was  borne  :  — 

"  I'\ather!"  she  cried  ;  the  rocks  around 

Loved  to  prolong  the  gentle  sound. 

A  while  she  paused,  no  answer  came,  — ' 

"  Malcolm,  was  thine  the  blast  ?"  the  name 

Less  resolutely  utter'd  fell, 

'  MS. :  "  A  spncc  she  paused .  no  answer  came.  — 
'  Alpine,  was  thine  the  hlast?'  the  name 
Less  resohitelv  utter'd  fell. 
The  echoes  could  not  catch  the  swell. 
'  Nor  foe  nor  friend.'  the  strantjcr  said, 
Advancini;  from  the  hazel  shade. 
Tlir  sftir/li'i/  tiiniil.  will)  haslv  oar, 
Push'J  'ler  lii^ht  slialloj)  from  the  shore  " 


CANTO  I.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  43 

The  echoes  could  not  catch  the  swell. 
"A  stranger  I,"  the  Huntsman  said, 
Advancing  from  the  hazel  shade. 
The  maid,  alarmed,  with  hasty  oar 
Pushed  her  light  Lihallop  from  the  shore, 
And  when  a  space  was  gained  between. 
Closer  she  drew  her  bosom's  screen ; 
(So  forth  the  startled  swan  would  swing,' 
So  turn  to  prune  his  ruffled  wing). 
Then  safe,  though  flutter'd  and  amazed. 
She  paused,  'and  on  the  stranger  gazed. 
Not  his  the  form,  nor  his  the  eye. 
That  youthful  maidens  wont  to  fly, 

XXI. 

On  his  bold  visage  middle  age 
Had  slightly  press'd  its  signet  sage. 
Yet  had  not  quench'd  the  open  truth 
And  fiery  vehemence  of  youth  ; 
Forward  and  frolic  glee  was  there. 
The  will  to  do,  the  soul  to  dare, 
The  sparkling  glance,  soon  blown  to  fire. 
Of  hasty  love,  or  headlong  ire. 
His  limbs  were  cast  in  manly  mould, 
For  hardy  sports  or  contest  bold ; 
And  though  in  peaceful  garb  array'd. 
And  weaponless,  except  his  blade, 

^  MS.  :  "  So  o'er  the  lake  the  swan  would  spring. 
Then  turn  to  prune  its  ruiHed  wing." 


44  THE   LADY   OF   THE  LAKE  [Canto  l 

Mis  stately  mien  as  well  implied 

A  high-born  heart,  a  martial  pride, 

As  if  a  Baron's  crest  he  wore, 

And  sheathed  in  armor  tiode  the  shore, 

Slighting  the  petty  neetl  he  show'd 

He  told  of  his  benighted  road  ; 

His  ready  speech  flovv'd  fair  and  free, 

In  phrase  of  gentlest  courtesy  ; 

Yet  seem'd  that  tone,  and  gesture  bland. 

Less  used  to  sue  than  to  command. 

XXII. 

A  while  the  maid  the  stranger  eyed, 
And,  reassured,  at  length  replied, 
That  Highland  halls  were  open  still' 
To  wilder'd  wanderers  of  the  hill. 
"  Nor  think  you  unexpected  come 
To  yon  lone  isle,  or  desert  home  ; 
Before  the  heath  had  lost  the  dew. 
This  morn,  a  couch  was  pull'd  for  you  ; 
On  yonder  mountain's  purple  head 
Have  ptarmigan  and  heath-cock  bled. 
And  our  liroad  lu-ts  have  swept  the  mere. 
To  furnish  forth  your  evening  cheer." 
"Now,  by  the  rood,  my  lovely  maid, 
Vour  courtesy  has  crr'd,"  he  said  ; 
"  No  right  have  I  to  claim,  misi^laced, 
The  welcome  of  exjiectcd  guest. 

*   MS.  :   '•  //<  /•  /itlhcrs'  liall  v.as  open  stiif." 


Canto  I.]  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  45 


A  wanderer  here  by  fortune  tost, 
My  way,  my  friends,  my  courser  lost, 
I  ne'er  before,  believe  me,  fair, 
Have  ever  drawn  your  mountain  air, 
Till  on  this  lake's  romantic  strand,' 
I  found  a  fay  in  fairy  land ! " 

XXIII. 

*'  I  well  believe,"  the  maid  replied. 

As  her  light  skiff  approached  the  side,  — 

"  I  well  believe  that  ne'er  before 

Your  foot  has  trod  Loch  Katrine's  shore ; 

But  yet,  as  far  as  yesternight. 

Old  Allan-Bane  foretold  your  plight,  — 

A  gray-hair'd  sire,  whose  eye  intent 

Was  on  the  vision'd  future  bent.^ 

He  saw  your  steed,  a  dappled  gray, 

Lie  dead  beneath  the  birchen  way ; 

Painted  exact  your  form  and  mien. 

Your  hunting-suit  of  Lincoln  green. 

That  tassell'd  horn  so  gayly  gilt. 

That  falchion's  crooked  blade  and  hilt, 

That  cap  with  heron  plumage  trim, 

And  yon  two  hounds  so  dark  and  grim. 

He  bade  that  all  should  ready  be. 

To  grace  a  guest  of  fair  degree ; 

But  light  I  held  his  prophecy, 

1  MS.  :   "Till  on  the  lake's  cncliatiting  strand." 

2  MS.  •  "  /s  often  on  the  future  bent." 

See  Appendix,  Note  A. 


4^)  THE    LAPV  OF    11  [E  LAKE.  [Canto  i. 

And  ilccm'd  it  was  my  fiithcr's  horn, 
Whoso  echoes  o'er  the  lake  were  l^orne." 

XXIV. 

The  stranger  smiled  :  "  Since  to  your  home 

A  destined  errant-knight  I  come, 

Announced  by  i)rophet  sooth  and  old, 

Doom'd,  doubtless,  for  achievement  bold, 

I'll  lightly  front  each  high  emprise. 

For  one  kind  glance  of  those  bright  eyes. 

Permit  me,  first,  the  task  to  guide 

Your  fairy  frigate  o'er  the  tide." 

The  maid,  with  smile  supprcss'd  and  sly, 

The  toil  unwonted  saw  liiin  try  ; 

For  seldom  sure,  if  e'er  before. 

His  noble  hand  had  grasp'd  an  oar; 

Yet  with  main  strength  his  strokes  he  drew, 

And  o'er  the  lake  the  shallop  flew ; 

With  heads  erect,  and  whimpering  cry, 

The  hounds  behind  their  j^assage  ply. 

Nor  frec|uent  docs  the  l^right  oar  break 

The  dark'ning  mirror  of  the  lake, 

Until  the  rocky  isle  they  reach, 

And  moor  their  shallop  on  the  beach. 

XXV. 
The  stranger  view'd  the  shore  around  ; 
'T  was  all  so  close  with  copsewood  bound 

*  MS.  :   "  V'/iis  !^rn/li-  li:in(I  li.ml  urasji'd  :in  f)ar; 

Yc»,  witli  main  strciiglli  ///<•  oars  lie  drew.'' 


Canto  1.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  47 


Nor  track  nor  pathway  might  declare 
That  human  foot  frequented  there, 
Until  the  mountain-maiden  show'd 
A  clambering  unsuspected  road, 
That  winded  through  the  tangled  screen, 
And  open'd  on  a  narrow  green, 
Where  weeping  birch  and  willow  round 
With  their  long  fibres  swept  the  ground. 
Here,  for  retreat  in  dangerous  hour. 
Some  chief  had  framed  a  rustic  bower.' 

XXVI. 

It  was  a  lodge  of  ample  size. 

But  strange  of  structure  and  device  ; 

Of  such  materials,  as  around 

The  workman's  hand  had  readiest  found. 


'  The  Celtic  chieftains,  whose  lives  were  continually  exposed  to 
peril,  had  usually  in  the  most  retired  spot  of  their  domains,  some 
place  of  retreat  for  the  hour  of  necessity,  which,  as  circumstances 
would  admit,  was  a  tower,  a  cavern,  or  a  rustic  hut,  in  a  strong  and 
secluded  situation.  One  of  these  last  gave  refuge  to  the  unfortunate 
Charles  Edward,  in  his  perilous  wanderings  after  the  battle  of 
Culloden. 

"  It  was  situated  in  the  face  of  a  very  rough,  high,  and  rocky 
mountain,  called  Letternilichk,  still  a  part  of  Benalder,  full  of  g*eat 
stones  and  crevices,  and  some  scattered  wood  interspersed.  The 
habitation  called  the  Cage,  in  the  face  of  that  mountain,  was  within 
a  small  thick  bush  of  wood.  There  were  first  some  rows  of  trees 
laid  down,  in  order  to  level  the  floor  for  a  habitation;  and  as  the 
place  was  steep,  this  raised  the  lower  side  to  an  equal  height  with 
the  other;  and  these  trees,  in  the  way  of  joists  or  planks,  were 
levelled  with  earth  and  gravel.  There  were  betwixt  the  trees  grow- 
ing naturally  on  their  own  roots,  some  stakes  fixed  in  the  earth 


48  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  [Canto  1. 


l.opp'il  of  I  heir  boughs,  thci'"  hoar  trunks  bared. 

And  by  the  hatchet  rudely  squared, 

To  give  the  walls  their  destined  height, 

The  sturdy  oak  and  ash  unite ; 

While  moss  and  clay  and  leav^cs  combined 

To  fence  each  crevice  from  the  wind. 

The  lighter  pine-trees,  overhead. 

Their  slender  length  for  rafters  spread, 

And  wither'd  heath  and  rushes  dry 

Supplied  a  russet  canopy. 

Due  westward,  fronting  to  the  green, 

A  rural  portico  was  seen. 

Aloft  on  native  pillars  borne. 

Of  mountain  fir  with  bark  unshorn. 

Where  ICllen's  hand  had  taught  to  twine 

The  ivy  and  Ida:an  vine, 

The  clematis,  the  favor'd  flower 

Which  boasts  the  name  of  virgin-bower, 

And  every  hardy  plant  could  bear 

Loch  Katrine's  keen  and  searching  air. 


•& 


which,  with  the  trees,  were  interwoven  with  ropes,  made  rf  hc.ith 
and  l)iri:h  twii^s,  up  to  the  top  of  the  Cat,'c,  it  beini;  of  a  round  f>r 
ratiier  oval  shape;  and  the  whole  tliatched  and  covered  over  witii 
foj;.  The  whole  fabric  hunjj,  as  it  were,  bv  a  lari^e  tree,  which 
reclined  from  the  one  end.  all  alon<j  the  roof,  to  the  other,  and 
which  f^avc  it  the  name  of  the  Caf,'e ;  and  by  chance  there  happened 
to  be  two  stones  at  a  small  distance  from  one  another,  in  the  side 
next  the  precipice,  rcsemblinjj  the  pillars  of  a  cliimney,  where  the 
fire  was  |ilaced.  The  smoke  had  its  vent  out  here,  all  aloni;  the  fall 
of  liie  rock,  which  was  so  much  of  the  same  colour  that  one  could 
discover  no  diflVrence  in  the  clearest  day."  —  IIumk's  History  oj  the 
Rebellion.     Lond.,  iSoJ.  4to.  p.  3S1. 


Canto  I.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  49 

An  instant  in  this  porch  she  stayed, 
And  gayly  to  the  stranger  said, 
"  On  heaven  and  on  thy  lady  call, 
And  enter  the  enchanted  hall ! " 

XXVII. 

"  My  hope,  my  heaven,  my  trust  must  be 

My  gentle  guide,  in  following  thee." 

He  cross'd  the  threshold  —  and  a  clang: 

Of  angry  steel  that  instant  rang. 

To  his  bold  brow  his  spirit  rush'd, 

But  soon  for  vain  alarm  he  blush'd, 

When  on  the  floor  he  sav/  display'd, 

Cause  of  the  din,  a  naked  blade 

Dropp'd  from  the  sheath,  that  careless  flung 

Upon  a  stag's  huge  antlers  swung  ; 

For  all  around  the  walls  to  grace. 

Hung  trophies  of  the  fight  or  chase ; 

A  target  there,  a  bugle  here, 

A  battle-axe,  a  hunting  spear, 

And  broadswords,  bows,  and  arrows  store 

With  the  tusk'd  trophies  of  the  boar. 

Here  grins  the  wolf  as  when  he  died  ' 

And  there  the  wild-cat's  brindled  hide 

The  frontlet  of  the  elk  adorns, 

Or  mantles  o'er  the  bison's  horns ; 


1 


MS.  :  "  Here  grins  the  wolf  as  when  he  died, 

There  hung  the  wild-cat's  brindled  hide, 
Above  the  elk's  branch'd  brow  and  skull. 
And  frontlet  of  the  forest  bull." 


50  THE  I.ADV  OF   TllF.    LAKE.  fCANTo  l 


Pennons  and  flags  defaced  and  stai n'd 
That  blackening  streaks  of  blood  retain'd 
And  deer-skins,  dappled,  dun,  and  white, 
With  otter's  furs  and  seal's  unite. 
In  rude  and  uncouth  tapestry  all, 
To  garnish  forth  the  sylvan  hall. 

XXVIII. 
The  wandering  stranger  round  him  gazed, 
And  next  the  fallen  weapon  raised:  — 
Few  were  the  arms  whose  sinewy  strength 
Sufficed  to  stretch  it  forth  at  length. 
And  as  the  brand  he  poised  and  sway'd, 
"  I  never  knew  but  one,"  he  said, 
"Whose  stalwart  arm  might  brook  to  wield 
A  blade  like  this  in  battle-field." 
She  sigh'd,  then  srniled.  and  took  the  word  ; 
"  ^'ou  sec'xnc  guardian  champion's  swortl  ; 
As  light  it  trembles  in  his  hand, 
As  in  my  grasp  a  hazel  wand  ; 
My  sire's  tall  form  might  grace  the  part 
Of  Ferragus,  or  Ascabart ;' 
But  in  the  absent  giant's  hold 
Arc  women  nou-,  and  menials  old." 

XXIX. 
The  mistress  of  the  mansion  came, 
Mature  of  age,  a  graceful  dame  ; 

*  See  Appcnilix,  Note  V>. 


Canto  i.]  THE   LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  5 1 

Whose  easy  step  ilikI  stately  port 

Had  well  become  a  princely  court, 

To  whom,  though  more  than  kindred  knew. 

Young  Ellen  gave  a  mother's  due.' 

Meet  welcome  to  her  guest  she  made, 

And  every  courteous  rite  was  paid. 

That  hospitality  could  claim, 

Though  all  unask'd  his  birth  and  name,^ 

Such  then  the  reverence  of  a  guest. 

That  fellest  foe  might  join  the  feast. 

And  from  his  deadliest  foeman's  door 

Unquestion'd  turn,  the  banquet  o'er. 

At  length  his  rank  the  stranger  names, 

"  The  Knight  of  Snowdoun,  James  Fitz-James ; 

Lord  of  a  barren  heritage. 

Which  his  brave  sires,  from  age  to  age, 

By  their  good  swords  had  held  with  toil ; 

His  sire  had  fall'n  in  such  turmoil. 

And  he,  God  wot,  was  forced  to  stand 

Oft  for  his  right  with  blade  in  hand. 

This  morning  with  Lord  Moray's  train 

He  chased  a  stalwart  stag  in  vain. 


1  MS.  :  "To  whom,  though  more  remote  her  claim 

Young  Ellen  gave  a  mother's  name." 

2  The  Highlanders,  who  carried  hospitality  to  a  punctilious 
excess,  are  said  to  have  considered  it  churlish  to  ask  a  stranger  his 
name  or  lineage  before  he  had  taken  refreshment.  Feuds  were 
so  frequent  among  them,  that  a  contrary  rule  would  in  many  cases 
have  produced  the  discovery  of  some  circumstance,  which  might  have 
excluded  the  guest  from   tlie  benefit  of  the  assistance  he  stood  in 


need  of. 


52  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  ICant->  F. 

Oulslripp'il  his  C()iiikuIcs,  niiss'd  llic  deer, 
Lost  his  good  steed,  and  wandcr'd  here." 

XXX. 

Fain  would  the  Kni;;lU  in  turn  rccinirc 
The  name  and  state  ot  J-Jlen's  sire, 
Well  sliow'd  the  elder  lady's  mien,' 
That  courts  and  cities  she  had  s.een  ; 
Ellen,  though  more  her  looks  display'u^ 
The  simple  grace  of  sylvan  maitl, 
In  speech  and  gesture,  form  and  face, 
Show'd  she  was  come  of  gentle  race. 
" 'Twerc  strange  in  ruder  rank  to  fin<l 
Such  looks,  such  manners,  and  such  mind. 
Each  hint  the  Knight  of  Snowdoun  gave, 
Dame  Margaret  heard  with  silence  grave ; 
Ur  I'^llen,  innocently  gay, 
Turn'd  all  inciuiry  light  away:  — 
"  Weird  women  we  !  by  tlale  and  down 
We  dwell,  afar  from  tower  and  town. 
Wc  stem  the  flood,  we  ride  the  blast, 
On  wandering  knights  our  si)ell3  wc  cast; 

'  MS.  :   "  Well  slinw'd  tlie  irif)tlK'r's  o.ns\-  mien." 
''  MS.  :   "  EMon,  tlioiii^li  more  lur  looks  hi  I  ray  li 

The  simple  luarf  of  in  on  11/ a  in  m.iitl. 

In  speecii  .nnd  Efcstiirc.  form  and  •^racc, 

Sliow'tl  .she  wa.s  come  of  j^entle  race; 

Twas  strange,  in  birth  so  niilc.  to  find 

Such  faccy  such  manners,  and  snch  mind. 

Kach  anxious  hint  the  slrain^rr  yave. 

The  niit//irr  heard  with  silence  j;rave." 


Canto  l.J  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  53 

While  viewless  minstrels  touch  the  string, 
'Tis  thus  our  charmed  rhymes  we  sing," 
She  sung,  and  still  a  harp  unseen 
Fill'd  up  the  symphony  between." 

XXXI. 

SONG. 

"  Soldier,  rest  !  thy  warfare  o'er. 

Sleep  the  sleep  that  knows  no  breaking ; 
Dream  of  battled  fields  no  more. 
Days  of  danger,  nights  of  waking. 

1  *'  Thej,"  meaning  the  Highlanders,  "  delight  much  in  music,  but 
chiefly  in  harps  and  clairschoes  of  their  own  fashion.  The  strings  of 
the  clairschoes  are  made  of  brass  wire,  and  the  strings  of  the  harps 
of  sinews;  which  strings  they  strike  either  with  their  najles,  grow- 
ing long,  or  else  with  an  instrument  appointed  for  that  use.  They 
take  pleasure  to  decke  their  harps  and  clairschoes  with  silver  and 
precious  stones ;  the  poor  ones  that  cannot  attajne  hereunto,  decke 
them  with  christall.  Thej  sing  verses  prettily  compound,  contayn- 
ing  (for  the  most  part)  prayses  of  valiant  men.  There  is  not  almost 
any  other  argument,  whereof  their  rhymes  intreat.  They  speak 
the  ancient  French  language  altered  a  little."*  "  The  harp  and  the 
clairschoes  are  now  only  heard  in  the  Highlands  in  ancient  song. 
At  what  period  these  instruments  ceased  to  be  used  is  not  on  record  ; 
and  tradition  is*silent  on  this  head.  But,  as  Irish  harpers  occasion- 
ally visited  the  Highlands  and  Western  Isles  until  lately,  the  harp 
niiglit  have  been  extant  so  late  as  the  middle  of  the  present  century. 
Thus  far  we  know,  that  from  remote  times  down  to  the  present, 
harpers  were  received  as  Avelcome  guests,  particularly  in  the  High- 
lands of  Scotland ;  and  so  late  as  the  latter  end  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, as  appears  by  the  above  quotation,  the  harp  was  in  common 
use  among  the  natives  of  the  Western  Isles.  How  it  happened  that 
the  noisy  and  unharmonious  bagpipe  banished  the  soft  and  expressive 

*  Vide  "Certayne  MaUcrs  conccrningthe  Kealnm  of  Scotland,  etc.,  as  they  were 
Anno  Domini  1597.     Lond.,  1603,"  \^°' 


54  THE   I.APY   OF   THE   LAKE.  [Canto  I. 


In  our  isle's  enchanted  hall, 

Hands  unseen  thy  couch  are  strewinj^, 
Fairy  strains  of  music  fall, 

Every  sense  in  slumber  dewing. 
Soldier,  rest  !  thy  warfare  o'er, 
Dream  ot  fighting  fields  no  more  ; 
Sleep  the  sleep  that  knows  not  breaking, 
Morn  of  toil,  nor  night  of  waking. 

"  No  rude  sound  shall  reach  thine  ear,' 

Armor's  clang,  or  war-steed  chami)ing, 
Trump  nor  pibroch  summon  here 

Mustering  clan,  or  squadron  trami)ing. 
Yet  the  lark's  shrill  fife  may  come 

At  the  tlaybreak  from  the  fallow. 
And  the  bittern  .sound  his  drum. 

Booming  from  the  sedgy  shallow. 
Ruder  sounds  shall  none  be  near, 
Guards  nor  warders  challenge  here, 

hail)  T.'c  caii.iol  say;  but  certain  it  is,  tiiat  llic  ba.tipipe  is  now  the 
only  instriiinL-nt  that  olitains  universally  in  tin;  Ili.^'iilancl  liistricts." 
—  C AMi-UKt.i.'s  y<>iirniv  tlnoui^h  Xortli  Ihitutii.     Lonci..  iSoS,  4to, 

I-  «7.v 

Mr.  Giinn.  of  Eclinhuri^h,   has  lately  puhiislud  a  curiou-.   Essay 
upon    the   Harp    and    Harp    Music   of  the   llii,'hlancis  of  Siotlaiul 
'I'liat  the  instrument  was  once  in  common  use  there  is  most  certain. 
Cleland  numbers  an  acquaintance  with  it  amonj;  the  few  accomplish- 
ments which  his  satire  allows  to  the  Hii^hlanilers  :  — 

"  In  iiotliinK  tlicy'rc  arcountcil  sliiirp, 
lixccpt  ill  b:n;|)i|>c  nr  in  harp." 

'   Mb.:  ''  jVooti  of  /iiiii<rrr,  nij^ht  of  wakinj^. 

No  rude  sound  bhall  rout^f  thine  ear." 


Canto  I.]  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  55 


Here's  no  war-steed's  neigh  and  champing, 
Shouting  clans,  or  squadrons  stamping." 

XXXII. 
She  paused  —  then,  bhishing,  led  the  lay ' 
To  grace  the  stranger  of  the  day. 
Her  mellow  notes  awhile  prolong 
The  cadence  of  the  flowing  song, 
Till  to  her  lips  in  measured  frame 
The  minstrel  verse  spontaneous  came. 

SONG    CONTINUED. 

"  Huntsman,  rest  !  thy  chase  is  done, 

While  our  slumbrous  spells  assail  ye,* 
Dream  not,  with  the  rising  sun. 

Bugles  here  shall  sound  reveille. 
Sleep  !  the  deer  is  in  his  den  ; 

Sleep  !  thy  hounds  are  by  thee  lying ; 
Sleep  !  nor  dream  in  yonder  glen, 

How  thy  gallant  steed  lay  dying. 
Huntsman,  rest ;  thy  chase  is  done, 
Think  not  of  the  rising  sun, 
For  at  dawning  to  assail  ye. 
Here  no  bugles  sound  reveille." 

1  MS.  :   "  She  paused  —  hut  xvakcd  again  the  lay." 

2  MS. :  "  Slumber  sweet  our  spells  shall  deal  ye, 

X    -  IT-  11    f  avail  ye, 

Let  our  slumbrous  spells^  ,         .\         „ 

I  beguile  ye. 


56  ■HIE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  [Canto  L 


XXXIII. 

The  hall  was  clear'd — the  Stranraer's  bed 

Was  there  of  mountain  heather  spread, 

Where  oft  a  hundred  guests  had  lain, 

And  dream'd  their  forest  sports  again.' 

But  vainly  did  the  heath-flower  shed 

Its  moorland  fragrance  round  his  head  ; 

Not  Ellen's  spell  had  lull'd  to  rest 

The  fever  of  his  troubled  breast. 

In  broken  dreams  the  image  rose 

Of  varied  perils,  pains,  and  woes  : 

His  steed  now  flounders  in  the  brake, 

Now  sinks  his  barge  upon  the  lake  ; 

Now  leader  of  a  broken  host, 

His  standard  falls,  his  honor's  lost. 

Then,  —  from  my  couch  may  heavenly  might 

Chase  that  worst  phantom  of  the  night!  — 

Again  return'd  the  scenes  of  youth, 

Of  confident  undoubting  truth  ; 

Again  his  soul  he  interchanged 

With  friends  whose  hearts  were  long  estranged 

They  come,  in  dim  ])rocession  led, 

The  cold,  the  faithless,  and  the  dead  ; 

As  warm  each  hand,  each  brow  as  gay. 

As  if  they  parted  yesterday.  . 

An-I  doubt  distracts  him  at  the  view, 

O  were  his  senses  false  or  true  ! 

'  MS.  :  "And  (.laamd  tlicir  moimluin  chase  again." 


Canto  I.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  57 

Dream'd  he  of  death,  or  broken  vow, 
Or  is  it  all  a  vision  now  ! ' 

XXXIV. 

At  length,  with  Ellen  in  a  grove 

He  seem'd  to  walk,  and  speak  of  love ; 

She  listen'd  with  a  flush  and  sigh. 

His  suit  was  warm,  his  hopes  were  high. 

He  sought  her  yielded  hand  to  clasp, 

And  a  cold  gauntlet  met  his  grasp  : 

The  phantom's  sex  was  changed  and  gone, 

Upon  its  head  a  helmet  shone  ; 

Slowly  enlarged  to  giant  size. 

With  darkened  cheek  and  threatening  eyes, 

The  grisly  visage,  stern  and  hoar, 

To  Ellen  still  a  likeness  bore.  — 


1  << 


Ye  guardian  spirits,  to  whom  man  is  dear, 

From  these  foul  demons  shield  the  midnisrht  eloom- 
Angels  of  fancy  and  of  love,  be  near. 

And  o'er  the  blank  of  sleep  diffuse  a  bloom. 
Evoke  the  sacred  shades  of  Greece  and  Rome, 

And  let  them  virtue  with  a  look  impart; 
But  chief,  awhile,  O!  lend  us  from  the  tomb 

Those  long-lost  friends  for  whom  in  love  we  smart, 
And  fill  with  pious  awe  and  jov-mixt  woe  the  heart. 

'Or  are  vou  sportive.'  — bid  the  morn  of  vouth 

Rise  to  new  liglit,  and  beam  afresh  the  days 
Of  innocence,  smiplicity,  and  truth; 

To  cares  estranged,  and  manhood's  thorny  ways. 
What  transport,  to  retrace  our  boyish  plays, 

Our  easy  bliss,  when  each  thing  joy  supplied; 
The  woods,  the  mountains,  and  the  warbhng  maze 

Of  the  wild  brooks.?"—  Castle  of  Indolo/ce,  Canto  I. 


58  THE  LAP)'  OF    rm-:   lake.  [^anto  I. 

He  woke,  and,  pantinj]^  with  affright, 

Rccall'd  the  xision  of  the  niirht.' 

The  hearth's  decaying  brands  were  red, 

Antl  '-leej)  and  dusky  histre  shed, 

Half  showing,  half  concealing,  all  v 

The  uncouth  trophies  of  the  hall. 

Mid  those  the  stranger  fix'd  his  eye. 

Where  that  huge  falchion  hung  on  high, 

And  thoughts  on  thoughts,  a  countless  throng, 

Rush'd,  chasing  countless  thoughts  along. 

Until,  the  giddy  whirl  to  cure, 

lie  rose,  and  sought  the  moonshine  pure. 

XXXV. 

The  wild-rose,  eglantine,  and  broom, 
Wasted  around  their  rich  perfume  :  ^ 
The  birch-trees  wept  in  fragrant  balm, 
The  aspens  slept  beneath  the  calm  ; 


'  "  Such  a  stranijc  and  romantic  dream  as  \\y\\  be  naturally  ex- 
pected tf)  tlow  from  tlie  extraordinary  events  of  tlie  past  clay.  It 
miglit,  perliajis,  he  cjuotcd  as  one  of  Mr.  Scott's  most  successful 
efforts  in  descriptive  poetry.  Some  few  lines  of  il  are  indeed  un- 
rivalled for  delicacy  ami  melancholy  tenderness." — Critical  lic- 
Z'icv.'. 

•1  xft!        1.  i.i      •  1  f  the  bosom  f)f  the  Like, 

■«  Mb.  :    "  rlav  d   on  ■    , 

t  Lorh  Katrme  s  still  expanse; 

The  birch,  the  wild-rose,  and  the  broom, 

Wasted  around  their  rich  perfume.   .  .  . 

The  birch-trees  wept  in  balmy  dew; 

The  aspen  slept  on  Henvenue; 

Wilt!  Wire  the  heart  whose  passions'  power 

Defied  the  inlluencc  of  the  hour." 


Canto  I.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  59 

The  silver  light,  with  quivering  glance, 

Play'd  on  the  water's  still  expanse,  — 

Wild  were  the  heart  whose  passions'  sway 

Could  rage  beneath  the  sober  ray  ! 

He  felt  its  calm,  that  warrior  guest, 

While  thus  he  communed  with  his  breast :  — 

"  Why  is  it,  at  each  turn  I  trace 

Some  memory  of  that  exil'd  race  ? 

Can  I  not  mountain-maiden  spy, 

But  she  must  bear  the  Douglas  eye  ? 

Can  I  not  view  a  Highland  brand, 

But  it  must  match  the  Douglas  hand  ? 

Can  I  not  frame  a  fever'd  dream. 

But  still  the  Douglas  is  the  them.e  ? 

I'll  dream  no  more  —  by  manly  mind 

Not  even  in  sleep  is  will  resign'd. 

My  midnight  orisons  said  o'er, 

I'll  turn  to  rest,  and  dream  no  more." 

His  midnight  orisons  he  told, 

A  prayer  with  every  bead  of  gold. 

Consigned  to  heaven  his  cares  and  woeS; 

And  sunk  in  undisturb'd  repose  ; 

Until  the  heath-cock  shrilly  crew, 

And  morning  dawn'd  on  Benvenue. 


CANTO  SECOND. 

THE   ISLAND. 

1. 

At  morn  the  black-cock  trims  his  jetty  wing, 

"I'is  morning  prompts  the  linnet's  blithest  lay, 
All  Nature's  children  feel  the  matin  spring 

Of  life  reviving,  with  reviving  day ; 
And  while  yon  little  bark  glides  down  the  bay, 

Wafting  the  stranger  on  his  way  again. 
Morn's  genial  influence  roused  a  minstrel  gray, 

And  sweetly  o'er  the  lake  was  heard  thy  stram, 
iMix'd  with   the  sounding   harp,   O   white-hair'd   Allan- 
Bane  ! ' 

'  That  Ilit^hland  chieftains,  to  a  late  period,  retained  in  their  ser- 
vuc  llic  liard.  as  a  faniilv  ofllcor,  admits  of  very  easy  jiroof.  The 
author  of  the  Letters  from  ti>e  Norlli  of  Scotland,  an  olllcer  of  en- 
gineers, quartered  at  Inverness  about  17 jo.  who  certainly  cannot  lie 
deemed  a  tavorahle  witness,  gives  the  followiui^  account  of  the  ofllce. 
ami  of  a  bard  whom  he  heard  exercise  his  talent  of  recitation  :  "  Tiie 
bard  is  skilled  in  the  genealogy  of  all  the  Highland  families,  some 
times  preceptor  to  the  young  laird,  celebrates  in  Irish  verse  tlie 
original  of  the  tribe,  the  famous  warlike  actions  of  the  successive 
heads,  and  sings  his  own  lyricks  as  an  opiate  to  the  chief,  when  in- 
disposed for  sleep:  but  poets  arc  not  equally  esteemed  and  honored 
in  all  countries.  I  hapjiened  to  hi'  a  witness  of  the  dishonor  done 
to  the  inuse,  at  the  house  of  one  of  the  chiefs,  where  two  of  these 
bards  were  set  at  a  grjod  distance,  at  tlie  lower  end  of  a  long  table, 
with  a  parcel  of  Highlanders  of  no  extraordinary  appearance,  over  a 
60 


Canto  II. J  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  6l 


II. 

SONG. 

Not  faster  yonder  rowers'  might 

Flings  from  their  oars  the  spray, 
Not  faster  yonder  rippling  bright 
That  tracts  the  shallop's  course  in  light, 

Melts  in  the  lake  away, 
Than  man  from  memory  erase 
The  benefits  of  former  days  ; 
Then,  stranger,  go  !  good  speed  the  while. 
Nor  think  again  of  the  lonely  isle. 

*'  High  place  to  thee  in  royal  court. 

High  place  in  battle  Ime, 
Good  hawk  and  hound  for  sylvan  sport, 
Where  beauty  sees  the  brave  resort,' 

The  honor'd  meed  be  thine ! 

cup  of  ale.  Poor  inspiration  !  They  were  not  asked  to  drink  a  glass 
of  wine  at  our  table,  though  the  whole  company  consisted  only  of 
the  great  man.  one  of  his  near  relations,  and  myself.  After  some 
little  time,  the  chief  ordered  one  of  them  to  sing  me  a  Highland 
song.  The  bard  i-eadily  obeyed,  and  with  a  hoarse  voice,  and  in  a 
tune  of  few  various  notes,  began,  as  I  was  told,  one  of  his  own 
lyricks  :  and  when  he  had  proceeded  to  the  fourth  or  fifth  stanza,  I 
perceived,  by  the  names  of  several  persons,  glens,  and  mountains, 
which  I  had  known  or  heard  of  before,  that  it  was  an  account  of  some 
clan  battle.  But  in  his  going  on,  the  chief  (who  piques  himself 
upon  his  school-learning),  at  some  particular  passage,  bid  hiro 
cease,  and  cried  out,  'there's  nothing  like  that  in  Virgil  or  Homer.' 
I  bowed  and  told  him  1  believed  so.  This  vou  may  believe  was  very 
edifying  and  delightful." — Lcf/crs.  u.  167. 

'  MS.  -■  "At  tourneys  where  the  brave  resort." 


62  THE   LADY   OF   7*1  IE  LAKE.  [Canto  W 


True  l)c  tliy  swoicl,  tli)'  friend  .sincere^ 
Thy  lady  constant,  kind,  and  dear, 
And  lost  in  love  and  friendshiii's  smile 
Be  memory  of  the  lonely  isle, 

III. 

SONG    CONTINUED, 

"  But  if  beneath  yon  southern  sky 
A  plaided  stranger  roam, 
Whose  droopinf]^  crest  and  stifled  sigh, 
And  sunken  cheek  and  heavy  eye, 

Pine  for  his  Highland  home  ; 
Then,  warrior,  then  be  thine  to  show 
The  care  that  soothes  a  wanderer's  woe ; 
Remember  then  thy  hap  ere  while, 
A  stranger  in  the  lonely  isle. 

"  Or  if  on  life's  uncertain  main 

Mishap  shall  mar  thy  sail  ; 
If  faithful,  wise,  and  brave  in  vain, 
Woe,  want,  and  exile  thou  sustain 

Beneath  the  fickle  gale  ; 
Waste  not  a  sigh  on  fortune  changed. 
On  thankless  courts,  or  friends  estranged, 
But  come  where  kindred  worth  shall  smile, 
To  greet  thee  in  the  lonely  isle." 

IV. 
As  died  the  .sounds  upon  the  tide. 
The  shallop  reach'd  the  mainland  side. 


CANTO  II.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  63 


And  ere  his  onward  way  he  took, 

The  stranger  cast  a  lingering  look, 

Where  easily  his  eye  might  reach 

The  Harper  on  the  islet  beach, 

Reclined  against  a  blighted  tree, 

As  wasted,  grey,  and  worn  as  he. 

To  minstrel  meditation  given, 

His  reverend  brow  was  raised  to  heaven. 

As  from  the  rising  sun  to  claim 

A  sparkle  of  inspiring  flame. 

His  hand  reclined  upon  the  wire, 

Seem'd  watching  the  awakening  fire ; 

So  still  he  sate,  as  those  who  wait 

Till  judgment  speak  the  doom  of  fate  ; 

So  still,  as  if  no  breeze  might  dare 

To  lift  one  lock  of  hoary  hair ; 

So  still,  as  life  itself  were  fled. 

In  the  last  sound  his  harp  had  sped. 


V. 

Upon  a  rock  with  lichens  wild. 
Beside  him  Ellen  sate  and  smiled,  — 
Smiled  she  to  see  the  stately  drake 
Lead  forth  his  fleet  upon  the  lake, 
While  her  vexed  spaniel,  from  the  beach. 
Bay'd  at  the  prize  beyond  his  reach .'' 
Yet  tell  me,  then,  the  maid  who  knows, 
Why  deepcn'd  on  her  cheek  the  rose  .^ 


64  THE  L.inv  OF  rin:  lake.       \_^\^xu\\. 

Forgive,  forgive,  I'Mdelity  ! 
Perchance  the  iiiaiden  smiled  to  see 
Yon  parting  Hngerer  wave  adieu. 
And  stop  and  turn  to  wave  anew  ; 
And,  lovely  ladies,  ere  your  ire 
Conclemn-the  heroine  of  my  lyre, 
Show  me  the  fair  would  scorn  to  sjiy. 
And  prize  such  conquest  of  her  eye  ! 


VT. 

While  yet  he  loiter'd  on  the  spot, 
It  scem'd  as  Mllen  mark'd  him  not; 
But  when  he  turn'd  liim  to  the  glade, 
One  courteous  parting  sign  she  made. 
And  after,  oft  the  knight  would  say, 
That  rot  when  \sx\7jii  of  festal  day 
Was  dealt  him  by  the  brightest  fair, 
Who  e'er  wore  jewel  in  her  hair, 
So  highly  did  his  bosom  swell. 
As  at  that  simple  mute  farewell. 
Now  with  a  trusty  mountain-guide, 
And  his  dark  stag-hounds  by  his  side, 
lie  parts  —  the  maid  unconscious  still, 
Watch'd  him  wind  slowly  round  the  hill 
lUit  when  his  stately  form  was  hid. 
The  rruardian  in  her  bosom  chid  — 
"Thy  Malcolm!  vain  and  selfish  maid!" 
'Twas  thus  ujibraiding  conscience  said,— 


Canto  U.J  J^HE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  6$ 

"  Not  so  had  Malcolm  idly  hung 

On  the  smooth  phrase  of  southern  tongue ; 

Not  so  had  Malcolm  strain'd  his  eye, 

Another  step  than  thine  to  spy.' 

Wake  Allan-Bane,"  aloud  she  cried, 

To  the  old  Minstrel  by  her  side,  — 

"  Arouse  thee  from  thy  moody  dream ! 

I'll  give  thy  harp  heroic  theme, 

And  warm  thee  with  a  noble  name ; 

Pour  forth  the  glory  of  the  Graeme  !  "^ 

Scarce  from  her  lips  the  word  had  rush'd. 

When  deep  the  conscious  maiden  blush'd  : 

For  of  his  clan,  in  hall  and  bower, 

Young  Malcolm  Graeme  was  held  the  flower. 

VII. 

The  Minstrel  waked  his  harp  —  three  times 
Arose  the  well-known  martial  chimes, 

'  IViB.  :  "  The  loveliest  Lowland  fair  to  spy." 

2  The  ancient  and  powerful  family  of  Graham  (v/hich,  for  metri- 
cal reasons,  is  here  spelt  after  the  Scottish  pronunciation)  held  ex- 
tensive possessions  in  the  counties  of  Dumbarton  and  Stirling. 
Few  families  can  boast  of  more  historical  renown,  having  claim  to 
three  of  the  most  remarkable  characters  in  the  Scottish  annals.  Sir 
John  the  Grreme,  the  faithful  and  undaunted  partaker  of  the  labors 
and  patriotic  warfare  of  Wallace,  fell  in  the  unfortunate  field  of  Fal- 
kirk, in  129S.  The  celebrated  Marquis  of  Montrose,  in  whom  De 
Retz  saw  realized  his  abstract  idea  of  the  heroes  of  antiquity,  was 
the  second  of  these  worthies.  And,  notwithstanding  the  severity  of 
his  temper,  and  the  rigor  witli  which  he  executed  the  oppressive 
mandates  of  the  princes  whom  he  served,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  name 
as  a  third,  John  GraMue,  of  Claverhouse,  Viscount  of  Dundee,  whose 
heroic  death,  in  the  arms  of  victory,  may  be  allowed  to  cancel  the 


66  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  [Canh.  II. 

And  Ihi  ice  llieir  hii^^h  heroic  pride 

111  melancholy  nuumurs  died. 

"Vainly  thou  hid'st,  C)  noble  maid," 

Clasping;  his  withcr'd  hands,  he  said, 

"X^ainly  thou  bid'st  nic  wake  the  strain, 

Though  all  uinvont  to  bid  in  vain. 

Alas  !  than  mine  a  mightier  hand 

Has  tuned  my  harp,  my  striuij^s  has  spanu'd  ! 

I  touch  the  cords  of  joy,  but  low 

And  mournful  answer  notes  of  woe  ; 

And  the  proud  march,  which  victors  tread, 

Sinks  in  the  wailing  for  the  dead. 

O  well  for  me,  if  mine  alone 

That  dirge's  deep  prophetic  tone! 

If,  as  my  tuneful  fathers  said, 

This  harji,  which  erst  Saint  Moilan  sway'd,' 

Can  thus  its  master's  fate  foretell, 

Then  welcome  be  the  minstrel's  knell! 

memory  of  liis  cruelty  to  tlie  non-conformists,  durinij  tlic  ryijns  of 
Charles  II.  and  James  II. 

'  I  am  not  pn-parecl  to  show  tli.il  Saint  Modan  \va-~  a  iierformer 
on  tlic  harp.  It  was,  however,  no  unsaiiUly  aceomiiiisiinient :  for 
Saint  Dnnstan  certainly  did  play  upon  that  instrument,  which,  re- 
taininij,  as  was  natural,  a  portion  of  the  sanctity  attached  to  its  mas- 
ter's character,  announced  future  events  hy  its  spontaneous  sound. 
"  But  laborinjj  once  in  these  mechanic  arts  for  a  de\out  mat  rone 
ihat  had  sett  him  on  work,  his  violl.  that  huntj  by  him  on  the  wall, 
of  its  own  accord,  without  anie  man's  helpe.  distinctly  sounded  this 
anthime:  (utiidriil  in  cwlis  atiinuv  sanc/oriiiii  ijiii  C/irisfi  vcs/ii;iii 
siinf  srrtiff :  r/  (/nitt  pro  riiif:  diNorr  aaniruinvm  siimii  fiit/rriin/,  itiro 
emu  C  /irisfo  i^aiii/i  iif  trtrriiinn.  Whereat  all  the  companii-  bein;.; 
much  astonished,  turned  their  eyes  from  beholdini^  him  working,  to 
look  on  that  strange   accident.   .   .   .   Not    long  after,  manie  of  the 


Canto  II.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE,  67 


VIII. 

"  But  ah !  clear  lady,  thus  it  sigh'd 

The  eve  tliy  saluted  mother  died  ; 

And  such  the  sounds  which,  while  T  strove 

To  wake  a  lay  of  war  or  love, 

Came  marring  all  the  festal  mirth. 

Appalling  me  who  gave  them  birth, 

court  that  hitherunto  had  borne  a  kind  of  favned  friendship  towards 
him,  began  now  greatly  to  envie  at  his  progresse  and  rising  in 
goodnes,  using  manie  crooked,  backbiting  nieanes  to  diffanie  liis 
vertues  with  the  black  maskes  of  hvpocrisie.  And  the  better  to 
authorize  their  calumnie,  they  brought  in  this  that  happened  in  the 
violl,  affirming  it  to  have  been  done  bv  art  magick.  What  moi"e.' 
this  wicked  rumour  increased  dajly,  till  the  king  and  others  of  the 
nobilitie  taking  hould  thereof,  Dunstan  grew  odious  in  their  sight. 
Therefore  he  resolued  to  leaue  the  court,  and  goe  to  Elphegus,  sur- 
named  the  Bauld,  then  bishop  of  Winchester,  who  was  his  cozen. 
Which  his  enemies  understanding,  they  layd  wayt  for  him  in  the 
way,  and  hauing  throwne  him  oft"  his  horse,  beate  him.  and  dragged 
him  in  the  durt  in  the  most  miserable  manner,  meaning  to  have 
slaine  him,  had  not  a  companie  of  mastiue  dogges,  that  came  un- 
lookt  uppon  them,  defended  and  redeemed  him  from  their  crueltie. 
When  with  sorrow  he  was  ashamed  to  see  dogges  more  humane  than 
they.  And  giuing  thankes  to  Almightie  God,  he  sensibly  again  per- 
ceiued  that  the  tunes  of  his  violl  had  giuen  him  a  warning  of  future 
accidents."  — /'Yott'c;'  of  the  Lives  of  the  7nost  reiioxvned  Saincts  of 
England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland,  by  the  R.  Father  Hiercme 
Porter.     Doway,  1632,  4to,  tome  i.  p.  43S. 

The  same  supernatural  circumstance  is  alluded  to  by  the  anonj- 
nnous  author  of  "  Grim,  the  Collier  of  Croydon." 
{Dunstaii's  harp  sounds  on  the  ryn//.") 


"  Forest.     Hark,  hark,  my  lords,  the  holy  abbott's  harp 
Sounds  by  itself  so  hanging  on  the  wall ! 

"  Dunstan.     Unhallow'd  man,  that  scorn'st  the  sacred  rede, 
Hark,  how  the  testimony  of  my  trutli 
Sounds  heavenly  music  with  an  angel's  hand, 
To  testify'  Dunstan's  integrity, 
\nd  prove  thy  active  boast  of  no  effect." 


68  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  [Canto  ll 

And,  disobedient  to  my  call, 

Wail'd  loud  through  Jiothwell's  baniici'd  hall, 

Ere  Douglasses,  to  ruin  driven,  ' 

Were  exiled  from  their  native  heaven. 

Oh !  if  yet  worse  mishap  and  woe, 

My  master's  house  must  undergo, 

'  Tlie  downfall  of  the  Doiigla.s!M;s  of  the  house  of  Angus,  during 
the  reign  of  James  V.,  is  the  event  alluded  to  in  the  text.  The  Eari 
of  Angus,  it  will  be  remembered,  had  married  liie  queen  dowager, 
and  availed  himself  of  the  right  which  he  thus  acquired,  as  well  as 
of  his  extensive  power,  to  retain  the  king  in  a  sort  ol'  tutelage,  which 
approached  very  near  to  captivity.  Several  open  attempts  were  made 
to  rescue  James  from  this  thraldom,  with  which  he  was  well  knf)wn 
to  be  deeply  disgusted;  but  the  valor  of  the  Douglasses,  and  their 
allies,  gave  them  the  victory  in  every  conflict.  At  length  the  king, 
wliile  residing  at  Falkland,  contrived  to  escape  by  night  out  of  his 
own  court  and  palace,  and  rode  full  speed  to  Stirling  Castle,  where 
the  governor,  who  was  of  the  opposite  faction,  joyfully  received  him. 
Being  thus  at  liberty,  James  speedily  summoned  arouml  him  such 
peers  as  he  knew  to  be  most  inimical  to  the  domination  of  Angus, 
and  laid  his  complaint  before  them,  says  I'itscotlie,  "  with  great 
lamentations:  showing  to  them  how  he  was  holden  in  subjection, 
thir  years  bvgonc,  by  the  Earl  of  Angus,  and  his  kin  and  frienils, 
who  oppressed  the  whole  country,  and  spoiled  it,  luuler  the  pretence 
of  justice  and  his  authority;  and  had  slain  many  of  his  lieges,  kins- 
men, and  friends,  because  they  would  have  had  it  mended  at  tiicir 
hands,  and  put  him  at  liberty,  as  he  ought  to  have  been  at  the 
counsel  of  his  whole  lords,  and  not  have  been  subjected  and  cor- 
rected with  no  particular  men,  by  the  rest  of  his  nobles:  Tiierefore. 
said  he,  I  desire,  my  lords,  that  I  may  be  satisfied  of  the  said  earl, 
his  kin,  and  friends;  for  I  avow,  that  Scotland  sh:ill  not  hold  us 
both,  while  [/.  r.  till]  I  be  revenged  on  him  and  his. 

"The  Loids  hearing  the  king's  complaint  and  lanicnlation,  :iTi(i 
also  the  great  rage,  fury,  and  malice,  that  he  bore  towanl  liie  Earl 
of  Angus,  his  kin  and  friends,  they  concluded  all,  and  thought  it 
best  that  he  should  be  sinnmoned  to  underlay  the  law:  if  he  foniid 
no  caution,  nor  yet  compear  himself,  that  he  shoulil  be  put  to  tiie 
horn,  with  all  his  kin  and  friends,  so  many  as  were  contained  in  the 


Cantu  il.J  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  69 

Or  aught  but  wca]  to  Ellen  fair, 
Brood  in  these  accents  of  despair, 
No  future  bard,  sad  Harp  !  shall  fling 
Triumph  or  rapture  from  thy  string ; 
One  short,  one  final  strain  shall  flow, 
Fraught  with  unutterable  woe, 
Then  shiver'd  shall  thy  fragments  lie, 
Thy  master  cast  him  down  and  die !" 

IX. 

Soothing  she  answer'd  him,  "  Assuage, 

Mine  honor'd  friend,  the  fears  of  age  ; . 

All  melodies  to  thee  are  known. 

That  harp  has  rung,  or  pipe  has  blown, 

In  Lowland  vale  or  Highland  glen, 

From  Tweed  to  Spey  —  what  marvel,  then, 

At  times,  unbidden  notes  should  rise, 

Confusedly  bound  in  memory's  ties. 

Entangling  as  they  rush  along. 

The  war-march  with  the  funeral  song  ?  — 

Small  ground  is  now  for  boding  fear ; 

Obscure,  but  safe,  we  lest  us  here. 

My  sire,  in  native  virtue  great. 

Resigning  lordship,  lands,  and  state, 

letters.  And  farther,  the  lords  ordained,  by  advice  of  his  majesty, 
that  his  brother  and  friends  should  be  summoned  to  find  caution  to 
underlay  the  law  within  a  certain  day,  or  else  be  put  to  the  horn- 
But  the  earl  appeared  not,  nor  none  for  him  :  and  so  he  was  put  to 
the  horn,  with  all  his  kin  and  friends  :  so  many  as  were  contained 
in  tlie  summons,  that  compeared  not,  were  banished,  and  holden 
traitors  to  the  kin"." 


/O  THE  LADY  Of    THE  LAKE.  LCanto  IL 


Not  then  to  fortune  more  resiirn'd 

Than  yonder  oak  might  L;ive  the  wind  ; 

Tb.e  graeeful  foliage  storms-  may  reave, 

The  noble  stem  they  cannot  grieve. 

For  me,"  —  she  stoop'd,  and,  looking  round, 

Pluck'd  a  blue  hare-bell  from  the  ground, — 

"  For  me,  whose  memory  scarce  conveys 

An  image  of  more  splendid  days, 

This  little  flower  that  loves  the  lea, 

May  well  my  sim])le  uiiiblem  be  ; 

It  drinks  heaven's  due  as  blithe  as  rose ' 

That  in  the  king's  own  garden  grows  ; 

And  when  I  place  it  in  my  hair, 

Allan,  a  bard  is  bound  to  swear 

IK-  ne'er  saw  coronet  so  fair." 

Then  jjlayfully  the  chajjlet  wild 

She  wreath'd  in  In-r  dark  locks,  .-ind  smiled. 

X. 

Iler  smile,  her  speech,  with  winning  sway. 
Wiled  the  old  harper's  mood  away. 
With  such  a  look  as  hermits  throw. 
When  angels  stoop  to  soothe  their  woe, 
He  gazed,  till  fond  regret  and  pride 
Thrill'd  to  a  tear,  then  thus  replied  : 
"  Loveliest  and  best  !  thou  little  know'st 
The  rank,  the  honors,  thou  hast  lost ! 

M.S.  :   ••  No  blither  ilow-drop  rliccrs  the  rose." 


Canto  II.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  7^ 


O  might  I  live  to  see  thee  grace, 
In  Scotland's  court,  thy  birth-right  place. 
To  see  my  favorite's  step  advance,' 
The  lightest  in  the  courtly  dance, 
The  cause  of  every  gallant's  sigh. 
And  leading  star  of  every  eye, 
And  theme  of  every  minstrel's  art. 
The  Lady  of  the  Bleeding  Heart !  "  ^ 

XI. 

"  Fair  dreams  are  these,"  the  maiden  cried, 
(Light  was  her  accent,  yet  she  sighed ;) 
"  Yet  is  this  mossy  rock  to  me 
Worth  splendid  chair  and  canopy  ;  ^ 
Nor  would  my  footsteps  spring  more  gay 
In  courtly  dance  than  blithe  strathspey, 
Nor  half  so  pleased  mine  ear  incline 
To  royal  minstrel's  lay  as  thine. 
And  then  for  suitors  proud  and  high, 
To  bend  before  my  conquering  eye,  — 
Thou,  flattering  bard  !  thyself  wilt  say. 
That  grim  Sir  Roderick  owns  its  sway. 
The  Saxon  scourge,  Clan-Alpine's  pride, 
The  terror  of  Loch  Lomond's  side, 
Would,  at  my  suit,  thou  know'st,  delay 
A  Lennox  foray  —  for  a  day." 

*  This  couplet  is  not  in  the  MS. 

2  The  well-known  cognizance  of  the  Douglas  family 
^  MS.  :  "This  mossy  rock,  my  friend,  to  me 
Is  worth  gay  chair  and  canopy." 


72  THE   LADY  OF   THE   LAKE  [Canto  II. 

XII. 

The  ancient  bard  her  glee  repress'd  : 
"  111  hast  thou  chosen  theme  for  jest ! 
For  who,  throuf,di  all  this  western  wild, 
Named  Black  Sir  Roderick  e'er,  and  smiled  ! 
In  Iloly-kood  a  knight  he  slew  ; ' 
I  saw,  when  back  the  dirk  he  drew, 
Courtiers  give  place  before  the  stride 
Of  the  undaunted  homicide  ;^ 
And  since,  though  outlaw'd,  hath  his  hand, 
Full  sternly  kept  his  mountain  land. 
Who  else  dare  give  —  ah  !  woe  the  day,^ 
That  I  such  hated  truth  should  say  — 
The  Douglas,  like  a  stricken  deer, 
Disown'd  by  every  noble  peer,^ 
Even  the  rude  refuge  we  have  here  ? 

*  See  Appendix,  Note  C 

^  MS.  :  "Courtiers  yave  place  with  heartless  stride 
Of  the  retiriii;^  iKjiniciile." 

•  MS. :  "  Who  else  dared  own  the  kindred  ciaini 

That  bound  him  to  thy  mother's  name.'' 

Who  else  dared  t^ive,"  etc. 
♦  The  exiled  state  of  this  powerful  rare  is  not  i\;i-.;irateil  in  fliis 
and  subsequent  passa,i,'es.  The  hatred  of  James  against  the  race  of 
Douglas  was  so  inveterate  that,  numerous  as  their  allies  were,  and 
disregarded  as  the  regal  authority  had  usually  been  in  similar  cases, 
their  nearest  friends,  even  in  the  most  remote  parts  of  Scotland, 
durst  not  entertain  them,  unless  under  the  strictest  and  closest 
disguise.  James  Douglas,  son  of  the  banished  Earl  of  Angus,  after- 
wards well  known  by  the  title  of  FCarl  of  Morton.  Imkod.  during  the 
exile  of  his  family,  in  the  north  of  Scotland,  under  the  assumed 
name  of  James  Innes.  otherwise  yanns  tin-  (•rirz'c  (/.  r.,  Reve  or 


Canto  II.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  73 

Alas,  this  wild  marauding  Chief 

Alone  might  hazard  our  relief, 

And  now  thy  maiden  charms  exjoand, 

Looks  for  his  guerdon  in  thy  hand ; 

Full  soon  may  dispensation  sought. 

To  back  his  suit  from  Rome  be  brouR-ht. 

Then,  though  an  exile  on  the  hill, 

Thy  father,  as  the  Douglas,  still 

Be  held  in  reverence  and  fear ; 

And  though  to  Roderick  thou'rt  so  dear, 

That  thou  mightst  guide  with  silken  thread, 

Slave  of  thy  will,  this  chieftain  dread ; 

Yet,  O  loved  maid,  thy  mirth  refrain ! 

Thy  hand  is  on  a  lion's  mane."  — 

XIII. 

"Minstrel,"  the  maid  replied,  and  high 
Her  father's  soul  glanced  from  her  eye, 
•'  My  debts  to  Roderick's  house  I  know : 
All  that  a  mother  could  bestow, 
To  Lady  Margaret's  care  I  owe, 
Since  first  an  orphan  in  the  wild 
She  sorrow'd  o'er  her  sister's  child  ; 

Bailiff).  "And  as  he  bore  the  name,"  says  Godscroft,  "  so  did  he 
also  execute  the  office  of  a  grieve  or  overseer  of  the  lands  and  rents, 
the  corn  and  cattle  of  him  with  whom  he  lived."  From  the  habits 
of  frugality  and  observation  wliich  he  acquired  in  his  humble  situa- 
tion, the  historian  traces  that  intimate  acquaintance  with  popular 
character,  which  enabled  him  to  rise  so  high  in  the  state,  and  that 
honorable  economy  by  which  he  repaired  and  established  the 
shattered  estates  of  Angus  and  ISIorton. — History  of  the  House  of 
Douglas,  Edinburgh.  1743,  vol.  ii.  p.  160. 


74  THE    LADY  OF    THE  LAKE.  [Canto  II. 


To  her  bra\e  chieftain  son,  from  ire 
Of  Scotland's  kin<^-  who  shroiuls  my  sire. 
A  deeper,  hoHcr  debt  is  owed  ; 
And,  could  I  pay  it  with  my  blood, 
Allan  !  Sir  Roderick  should  command 
My  blood,  my  life,  —  but  not  my  hantl. 
Rather  will  Kllen  Douglas  dwell 
A  votaress  in  Maronnan's  cell ; ' 
Rather  through  realms  beyond  the  sea, 
Seeking  the  world's  cold  charity, 
Where  ne'er  was  sj)()ke  a  Scottish  word, 
And  ne'er  the  name  of  Douglas  heard. 
An  outcast  pilgrim  will  she  rove. 
Than  wed  the  man  she  cannot  love.* 

XIV. 

"Thou  shakest,  good  friend,  tiiy  tresses  gray  — 
That  i)leading  look,  what  can  it  .say 
Uut  what  I  own.' — I  grant  him  brave, 
lUit  wild  as  lirncklinn's  thundering  wave;^ 

1  The  parish  of  Kilniamnoik.  at  tlic  eastern  cxtrcinitv  of  Locli- 
Loniond.  derives  its  naine  from  a  cell  or  ehapel,  dedicated  to  Saint 
Maronoch,  or  Marnoch,  or  Maronnan,  abont  whose  sanctity  verv 
little  is  now  renieinbered.  There  is  a  fountain  devoted  to  hini  in 
the  same  parish;  but  its  virtues,  like  the  merits  of  its  patron,  have 
fallen  into  oblivion. 

'^  "Ellen  is  most  exquisitelv  drawn,  and  could  not  have  been 
improved  bv  contrast.  She  is  iieautiful.  frank.  aHectionale.  rational, 
and  pl.nvful.  combininj^  the  innocence  of  a  child  with  the  elevated 
sentiments  and  courai^e  of  a  heroine."  —  .K^iiaihrly  l\,vi>v. 

'  This  is  a  beautifid  cascatle  niade  bv  a  nir)nntain  stream  called 
the   KeMi'.  at  a   jilace  called   the   Hridi^'c  of  Ilracklinn.  about  a  mile 


CANTO  II.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  75 

And  generous — save  vindictive  mood, 
Or  jealous  transport,  chafe  his  blood  : 
I  grant  him  true  to  friendly  band. 
As  his  claymore  is  to  his  hand ; 
But  O  !  that  very  blade  of  steel 
More  mercy  for  a  foe  would  feel : 
I  grant  him  liberal,  to  fling 
Among  his  clan  the  wealth  they  bring, 
When  back  by  lake  and  glen  they  wind, 
And  in  the  Lowland  leave  behind, 
Where  once  some  pleasant  hamlet  stood, 
A  mass  of  ashes  slaked  with  blood. 
The  hand  that  for  my  father  fought, 
I  honor,  as  his  daughter  ought ;   • 
But  can  I  clasp  it  reeking  red. 
From  peasants  slaughter'd  in  l.heir  shed  ? 
No  !  wildly  while  his  virtues  gleam. 
They  make  his  passions  darker  seem. 
And  flash  along  his  spirit  high, 
Like  lightning  o'er  the  midnight  sky. 
While  yet  a  child,  —  and  children  know. 
Instinctive  taught,  the  friend  and  foe,  — 
I  shudder' d  at  his  brow  of  gloom, 
His  shadowy  plaid,  and  sable  plume! 


from  the  village  of  Callendar  in  Menteith.  Above  a  chasm,  where 
the  brook  precipitates  itself  from  a  height  of  at  least  fifty  feet,  there 
is  thrown,  for  the  convenience  of  the  neighborhood,  a  rustic  foot- 
bridge, of  about  three  feet  in  breadth,  and  without  ledges,  which 
is  scarcely  to  be  crossed  by  a  stranger  without  awe  and  appre- 
hension. 


76  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  [Canto  11. 


A  maiden  <;nj\vn,  I  ill  coiiUl  bear 

Mis  haughty  mien  and  lordly  air ; 

But,  if  thou  join'st  a  suitor's  claim, 

In  serious  mood,  to  Roderick's  name, 

I  thrill  with  anguish  !  or,  if  e'er 

A  Douglas  knew  the  word,  with  fear. 

To  change  such  odious  theme  were  best,  — 

What  think'st  thou  of  our  stranger  guest  ? " 

XV. 

"What  think  I  oi  him  .'  —  woe  the  while 
That  brought  such  wanderer  to  our  isle! 
Thy  father's  battle-brand,  of  yore 
Vox  Tine-man  forged  by  fairy  lore,' 
What  time  he  leagued,  no  longer  foes, 
His  Border  spears  with  Hotspur's  bows, 
Did,  self-unscabbarded,  foreshow 
The  footstep  of  a  secret  foc^" 

'  Arcliibalil,  tlic  lliiicl  Earl  of  Doiiijla';,  wns  fio  unfortunate  in  aU 
his  enterprises,  tliat  he  .laiuircil  the  epithet  of  Tine-max,  because 
lie  tiinil,  or  lost,  his  followers  in  every  battle  which  he  fought,  lie 
was  vanfiuishcd.  as  every  reader  must  remember,  in  the  bloody 
battle  of  Ilomildon-hill,  near  Wnoler,  where  he  himself  lost  an  eye, 
and  was  made  prisoner  by  Hotspur.  lie  was  no  less  unfortunate 
when  allied  with  Percy,  beins  wounded  and  taken  at  the  battle  of 
Shrewsbury.  He  was:  so  unsuccessful  in  an  attempt  to  hesieijc 
Roxbur<,'h  Castle,  that  it  was  called  the  Foul  Raid,  or  disjEfracefuI 
expedition.  His  ill  fortune  left  him  indeed  at  the  battle  of  Rcaui^d, 
in  F" ranee;  but  it  was  only  to  return  with  double  emphasis  at  the 
subsequent  action  of  Vernoil.  the  last  and  most  unlucky  of  his 
encounters,  in  which  he  fell,  with  the  flower  of  the  Scottish  chivalry. 
then  servinj^  as  auxiliarie-  ■"  I'l.  u  .-.  and  about  two  thousand  com- 
mon poldiers.  A.  1).  1424. 

^  See  Apjiendix,  Note  D. 


Canto  II.]  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  TJ 

If  courtly  spy  hath  harbor'd  here, 

What  may  wc  for  the  Douglas  fear  ? 

What  for  this  island,  deem'd  of  old 

Clan-Alpine's  last  and  surest  hold  ? 

If  neither  spy  nor  foe,  I  pray 

What  yet  may  jealous  Roderick  say  ? 

—  Nay,  wave  not  thy  disdainful  head, 

Bethink  thee  of  the  discord  dread 

That  kindled,  when  at  Beltane  game 

Thou  ledst  the  dance  with  Malcolm  Grasme ; 

Still,  though  thy  sire  the  peace  renew'd. 

Smoulders  in  Roderick's  breast  the  feud ; 

Beware  !  —  But  hark,  what  sounds  are  these  ? ' 

My  dull  ears  catch  no  faltering  breeze, 

No  weeping  birch,  nor  aspens  wake, 

Nor  breath  is  dimpling  in  the  lake, 

Still  is  the  canna's  -  hoary  beard, 

Yet,  by  my  minstrel  faith,  I  heard  -= 

And  hark  again  !  some  pipe  of  war 

Sends  the  bold  pibroch  from  afar." 

XVI. 

Far  up  the  lengthen'd  lake  were  spied 
Four  darkening  specks  upon  the  tide. 
That,  slow  enlarging  on  the  view. 
Four  mann'd  and  masted  barges  grew, 

'  "The  moving  picture  —  the  effect  of  the  sounds  —  and  the  wild 
character  and  strong  peculiar  nationality  of  the  wliole  procession, 
are  given  with  inimitable  spirit  and  power  of  expression." — -Jeffrey 

2  Cotton-grass. 


7S  THE   LADY  OF    THE   LAKE.  [Canto  II. 


Ami,  hcarinL;  (lnwnvvards  from  Glcnijylc, 

Stc'or'tl  full  upon  the  lonely  isle  ; 

The  i)oint  of  Brianchoil  they  pass'd, 

And,  to  tlic  windward  as  they  cast, 

Afjjainst  tlie  sun  they  gave  to  shine 

The  l)old  Sir  Roderick's  banner'd  i'ine. 

Nearer  and  nearer  as  they  bear, 

Spear,  pikes,  and  axes  flash  in  air. 

Now  mi<:jht  you  see  the  tartans  brave, 

And  plaids  and  pluma-e  dance  and  wave  : 

Now  see  the  bonnets  sink  and  rise, 

As  his  tout;h  oar  the  rower  plies; 

See,  flashing  at  each  sturdy  stroke. 

The  wave  ascending  into  smoke  ; 

See  the  proud  pipers  on  the  bow. 

And  mark  the  gaudy  streamers  flow 

From  their  loud  chanters  '  down,  and  sweep 

The  furrow'd  bo.som  of  the  deej), 

As,  rushing  through  the  lake  amain. 

They  plied  the  ancient  Highland  strain. 

XVII. 

lu'cr,  as  on  they  bore,  more  loud 
And  louder  rung  the  pibroch  |)roud. 
'At  first  the  sound,  by  distance  tame, 
Mellow'd  along  the  waters  came, 
And,  lingering  long  by  cape  and  bay 
VVail'd  every  harsher  not(>  away; 


Canto  II.]  l^HE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  79 

Then,  l)ursting"  bolder  on  the  ear, 

The  clan's  shrill  Gathering  they  could  hear ; 

Those  thrilling  sounds,  that  call  the  mig'Tt 

Of  old  Clan-Alpine  to  the  fight/ 

Thick  beat  the  rapid  notes,  as  when 

The  mustering  hundreds  shake  the  glen, 

And  hurrying-  at  the  signal  dread. 

The  batter'd  earth  returns  then-  tread. 

Then  prelude  light,  of  livelier  tone, 

Express'd  their  merry  marching  on, 

Ere  peal  of  closing  battle  rose. 

With  mingled  outcry,  shrieks,  and  blows : 

A  mimic  din  of  stroke  and  ward. 

As  broadsword  upon  target  jarr'd  ; 

And  groaning  pause,  ere  yet  again, 

Condenged,  the  battle  yell'd  amain  ; 

The  rapid  charge,  the  rallying  shoui, 

Retreat  borne  headlong  into  rout, 

And  bursts  of  triumph,  to  declare 

Clan-Alpine's  conquest  —  all  were  theic. 

^  The  connoisseurs  in  pipe-music  affect  to  discover  in  a  well- 
composed  pibroch,  the  imitative  sounds  of  march,  conflict,  fight, 
pursuit  and' all  the  "current  of  a  heady  fight."  To  this  opinion 
Dr.  Beattie  has  given  his  suffrage,  in  the  following  elegant  passage : 
"■  K pibroch  is  a  species  of  tune,  peculiar,  I  think,  to  the  Highlands 
and  Western  Isles  of  Scotland.  It  is  performed  on  a  bigpipe,  and 
differs  totally  from  all  other  music.  Its  rythm  is  so  irregular,  and 
its  notes,  especially  in  the  quick  movement,  so  mixed  and  huddled 
together  that  a  stranger  finds  it  impossible  to  reconcile  his  ear  to  it, 
so  as  to  perceive  its  modulation.  Some  of  these  pibrochs,  being 
intended  to  represent  a  battle,  begin  with  a  grave  motion  resembling 
a  march;  then  gradually  quicken  into  the  onset;  run  off  with  noisy 


So  THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  [Canto  II. 


Xiir  ciulcd  thus  ihc  slrain  ;  Init  slow 
Sunk  in  a  nioan  prulong'd  and  low, 
And  changed  the  conciuering  clarion  swell, 
For  wild  lament  o'er  those  that  fell. 

XVIII. 

The  war-pipes  ceased  ;  but  lake  and  hill 
Were  busy  with  their  echoes  still ; 
And  when  they  slept,  a  vocal  strain 
Bade  their  hoarse  chorus  wake  again, 
While  loud  a  hundred  clansmen  raise 
Their  voices  in  their  Chieftain's  praise. 
Each  boatman,  bending  to  his  oar, 
With  measured  sweep  the  burden  bore, 
In  such  wild  cadence,  as  the  breeze 
Makes  through  December's  leafless  trees. 
The  chorus  first  could  Allan  know, 
"  Roderick  Vich  Alpine,  ho  !  iro  !  " 
/^nd  iiear,  and  nearer  as  they  row'd, 
Distinct  the  martial  ditty  llow'd. 

XIX. 

nO.AT    .SONG. 

Hail  to  the  Chief  who  in  triumph  advances! 
Ilonor'd  and  bless'd  be  the  ever-green  Pine 

."onfiision.  aiul  tiiihuliiu  lapiuiiv.  i'>  inniaic  tlic  tondict  ami  pursuit. ; 
then  swell  intf)  a  few  lloiiii-.iics  of  Iriuinphant  joy;  anil  perhaps 
close  witli  tlie  wild  ami  low  wailiiif^s  of  a  funeral  procession."  — 
Essay  on  Laiii^hlcr  ami  Ludicrous  Composiliou,  eliaji.  iii.  I^ote. 


Canto  II.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  8l 


Long  may  the  tree,  in  his  banner  that  glances, 
Flourisli,  the  shelter  and  grace  of  our  line ! 

Heaven  send  it  happy  dew. 

Earth  lend  it  sap  anew, 
Gayly  to  bourgeon,  and  broadly  to  grow. 

While  every  Highland  glen 

Send  our  shout  back  agen, 
"  Roderigh  Vich  Alpine  dhu,  ho  !  ieroe ! "  ' 

Ours  is  no  sapling,  chance-sown  by  the  fountain, 

Blooming  at  Beltane,  in  winter  to  fade ; 
When   the  whirlwind   has    strijip'd   every  leaf   on  the 
mountain, 
The  more  shall  Clan-Alpine  exult  in  her  shade. 
Moor'd  in  the  rifted  rock. 
Proof  to  the  tempest's  shock, 


'  Besides  his  ordinary  name  and  surname,  which  were  chiefly 
used  in  the  intercourse  with  the  Lowh\nds,  every  Highland  chief 
had  an  epithet  expressive  of  his  patriarchal  dignity  as  head  of  the 
clan,  and  which  was  common  to  all  his  predecessors  and  successors, 
as  Pharaoh  to  the  kings  of  Egypt,  or  Arsaces  to  those  of  Parthia. 
This  name  was  usually  a  patronymic,  expressive  of  his  descent  from 
the  founder  of  the  family.  Thus  the  Duke  of  Argyle  is  called  Mac- 
Callum  More,  or  the  son  of  Colin  the  Great  Sometimes,  however, 
it  is  derived  from  armorial  distinctions,  or  the  memory  of  some 
great  feat;  thus  Lord  Seaforth,  as  chief  of  the  Mackenzies,  or  Clan- 
Kennet,  bears  the  epithet  of  Caber-fae,  or  Buck's  Head,  as  repre- 
sentative of  Colin  Fitzgerald,  founder  of  the  family,  who  saved  the 
Scottish  king  when  endangered  by  a  stag.  But  besides  this  title, 
which  belonged  to  his  office  and  dignity,  the  chieftain  had  usually 
another  peculiar  to  himself,  which  distinguished  him  from  the 
chieftains  of  the  same  race.  This  was  sometCmes  derived  from 
complexion,  as  dhu  or  roy  ;  sometimes  from  size,  as  beg-  or  more  ;  at 


82  THE  LADY  OF   TIIF.    LAKE.  [Canto  II. 


Firmer  he  routs  liini  the  ruder  it  blows; 

Menteith  and  lireadalbane,  then, 

Echo  his  praise  again, 
"  Roderigh  Vich  Alpine  dhu,  ho!  ieroc!" 

XX. 

Proudly  our  pibroch  has  thrill'd  in  Glen  Fruin, 

And  Ikmnachar's  groans  to  our  slogan  replied  ; 
Glen  Lus  and  Ross-dhu,  they  arc  smoking  in  ruin, 
And  the  best  of  Loch-Lomond  lie  dead  on  her  side.' 

Widow  and  Saxon  maid 

Long  shall  lament  our  raid, 
Think  of  Clan-Alpine  with  fear  and  with  woe; 

Lennox  and  Lcven-glen 

Shake  when  they  hear  again, 
"  Roderigh  Vich  Alpine  dhu,  ho!  ieroc!  " 

Row,  vassals,  row  for  the  pride  of  the  Highlands 
Stretch  to  your  oars,  for  the  ever-green  Pine  ! 


other  times,  from  some  peculiar  exploit,  or  from  some  peculiarity 
of  hahit  or  aiipearaiicc.     The  line  of  tlic  text  therefore  signifies, 

Ulack  Uotlcrick,  the  dcsccndiinl  of  Alpine. 

The  Rorifj  itself  is  intended  as  an  imitation  of  the  /V);v'f/w.<;,  or  boat- 
sonf,'s  of  the  Ili;,'hlatulers,  which  were  usually  composed  in  honor  of 
n  favorite  chief.  Tiiev  are  so  adapted  as  to  keep  time  with  the  sweep 
of  the  oars,  anti  it  is  easy  to  distin<(uish  between  tluise  intended  to 
be  sung  to  the  oars  f)f  a  yallry.  where  the  stroke  is  K-n<,'thened  and 
doubled,  as  it  wen-,  and  lho>.c  which  were  timed  to  the  rowers  of  an 
ordirary  l»oat. 

1  See  Appendix,  Note  li. 


Canto  II.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  83 

O  !  that  the  rose-bud  that  graces  yon  islands, 

Were  wreathed  in  a  garland  around  him  to  twine. 

O,  that  some  seedling  gem, 

Worthy  such  noble  stem, 
Honor'd  and  blessed  in  their  shadow  might  grow  ! 

Loud  should  Clan-Alpine  then 

Ring  from  her  deepest  glen, 
'  Roderigh  Vich  Alpine  dhu,  ho  !  ieroe !  "  ' 


XXI. 

With  all  her  joyful  female  band, 
Had  Lady  Margaret  sought  the  strand. 
Loose  on  the  breeze  their  tresses  flew. 
And  high  their  snowy  arms  they  threw. 
As  echoing  back  with  shrill  acclaim, 
And  chorus  wild,  the  Chieftain's  name  ;  ^ 
While,  prompt  to  please,  with  mother's  art. 
The  darling  passion  of  his  heart, 
The  Dame  called  Ellen  to  the  strand 
To  greet  her  kinsman  ere  he  land  : 
"  Come,  loiterer,  come  !  a  Douglas  thou. 
And  shun  to  wreathe  a  victor's  brow  ? "  — 


1  "  However  we  may  dislike  the  geographical  ?ong  and  chorus, 
iialf  English  and  half  Erse,  w'hich  is  sung  in  praise  of  the  warrior, 
we  must  allow  that,  in  other  respects,  the  hero  of  a  poem  has 
seldom,  if  ever,  been  introduced  with  finer  effect,  or  in  a  manner 
better  calculated  to  excite  the  expectations  of  the  reader,  than  on  the 
present  occasion." —  Critical  Rcvie-v. 

^  MS. :  "  TAe  chorus  to  the  chieftain's  fame." 


84  THE  LAW  OF   THE  LAKE.  [Canto  ll. 


Rcluctaiitl)-  and  slow,  the  maid 

The  unwelcome  .summuniii!^  obey'd, 

And,  when  a  distant  bugle  rung, 

In  the  mitl-path  aside  she  sprung:  — 

"  List,  Allan-Bane  !     From  mainland  cast 

I  hea.  my  father's  signal  blast, 

Be  ours,"  she  cried,  "the  skitf  to  guide, 

And  w'aft  him  from  the  mountain-side.  ' 

Then,  like  a  sunbeam,  swift  and  bright, 

She  darted  to  lier  sliallop  light, 

And,  eagerly  while  Roderick  scann'd 

l^^or  her  dear  form,  his  mother's  band, 

The  islet  far  behind  her  lay, 

And  she  had  landed  in  the  bay. 


XXII. 

Some  feelings  arc  to  mortals  given, 
With  less  of  earth  in  rncm  than  heaven: 
And  if  there  be  a  human  tear 
From  passion's  dross  rcnned  and  clear, 
A  tear  so  limpid  anci  so  meek, 
It  would  not  stain  an  angel's  cheek, 
'Tis  that  which  pious  fathers  shed 
Upon  a  duteous  daughter's  head  ! 
And  as  the  Douglas  to  his  breast 
His  darling  ICllen  closely  prcss'd, 
Such  holy  drops  her  tresses  stccp'd, 
Though  'twas  an  hero's  eye  that  weep'd. 


Canto  II.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  85 

Nor  while  on  Ellen's  faltering  tongue ' 
Her  filial  welcomes  crowded  hung, 
Mark'd  she,  that  fear  (affection's  proof) 
Still  held  a  graceful  youth  aloof ; 
No  !  not  till  Douglas  named  his  name, 
Although  the  youth  was  Malcolm  Graeme. 

XXIII. 

Allan,  with  wistful  look  the  while, 

Mark'd  Roderick  landing  on  the  isle ; 

His  master  piteously  he  eyed. 

Then  gazed  upon  the  Chieftain's  pride. 

Then  dash'd,  with  hasty  hand,  away 

From  his  dimm'd  eye  the  gathering  spray ; 

And  Douglas,  as  his  hand  he  laid 

On  Malcolm's  shoulder,  kindly  said, 

"  Canst  thou,  young  friend,  no  meaning  spy 

In  my  poor  follower's  glistening  eye  ? 

I'll  tell  thee :  he  recalls  the  day, 

When  in  my  praise  he  led  the  lay 

O'er  the  arch'd  gate  of  Bothwell  proud, 

While  many  a  minstrel  answer'd  loud. 


MS.  :  "  Nor  while  on  Ellen's  faltering  tongue 
Her  filial  greetings  eager  hung, 
Mark'd  not  that  axve  (affection's  proof) 
Still  held  r^;/  gentle  youth  aloof; 
No!  not  till  Douglas  named  his  name, 
Although  the  youth  was  Malcolm  Grreme. 
Then  xvitli  Ji ashed  check  and  do-vncant  eye. 
Their  greeting  -n<as  confused  and  shy." 


86  rHE   LADY   UI-    THE  LAKE.  [Camo  IL 


When  rcrc)'s  Xornian  pennon  won 

In  bloody  field  before  mc  shone, 

And  twice  ten  kn lights,  the  least  a  name 

As  mi-hty  as  yon  Chief  may  claim, 

Gracing  my  i)omp,  behind  me  came. 

Yet  trust  mc,  Malcolm,  not  so  proud 

Was  I  of  all  that  marshall'd  crowd, 

Though  the  waned  crescent  own'd  my  might, 

And  in  my  train  troop'd  lord  and  knight, 

Though  l^lantyrc  hymn'd  her  holiest  lays 

And  liothwell's  bards  flung  back  my  i)raise 

As  when  this  old  man's  silent  tear, 

And  this  poor  maid's  affection  dear, 

A  welcome  give  more  kind  and  true, 

Than  aught  my  better  fortunes  knew 

Forgive,  my  friend,  a  father's  boast, 

()!  it  out-beggars  all  I  lost!" 

XXIV. 

Delightful  prai.se! —  Like  summer  rose. 
That  brighter  in  the  dew-drop  glows. 
The  ba.shful  maiden's  cheek  appear'd, 
l''or  Douglas  spoke,  and  Malcolm  heard. 
The  flush  of  shame-faced  joy  to  hide. 
The  hounds,  the  ha\vk,  her  cares  divide; 
The  loved  carcs.scs  of  the  maid 
The  dogs  with  crouch  and  whimjier  paid  ; ' 

'  MS.  :   "  Tlir  dflffs  ivith  -vhinipirinir  iiola^  repaid." 


CANTO  II.]  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  87 

And,  at  her  whistle,  on  her  hand 
The  falcon  took  his  favorite  stand, 
Closed  his  dark  wing,  relax'd  his  eye, 
Nor,  though  unhooded,  sought  to  fly. 
And,  trust,  while  in  such  guise  she  stood, 
Like  fabled  Goddess  of  the  Wood, ' 
That  if  a  father's  partial  thought 
O'erweigh'd  her  worth  and  beauty  aught, 
Well  might  the  lover's  judgment  fail 
To  balance  with  a  juster  scale  ; 
For  with  each  secret  glance  he  stole, 
The  fond  enthusiast  sent  his  soul. 

XXV. 

Of  stature  tall,  and  slender  frame. 

But  firmly  knit,  was  Malcolm  Graeme, 

The  belted  plaid  and  tartan  hose 

Did  ne'er  more  graceful  limbs  disclose ; 

His  flaxen  hair  of  sunny  hue, 

Curl'd  closely  round  his  bonnet  blue. 

Train'd  to  the  chase,  his  eagle  eye 

The  ptarmigan  in  snow  could  spy : 

Each  pass,  by  mountain,  lake,  and  heath, 

He  knew,  through  Lennox  and  Menteith : 

Vain  was  the  bound  of  dark-brown  doe. 

When  Malcolm  bent  his  sounding  bow. 

And  scarce  that  doe,  though  wing'd  with  fear, 

Outstripp'd  in  speed  the  mountaineer : 

1  MS.  :  "  Like  fabled  huntress  of  the  wood." 


88  THE  LADY  OF    fin-:   LAKE.  [Canto  U 

Right  up  Ben  Lomond  could  he  press, 
And  not  a  sob  his  toil  confess. 
His  form  accorded  with  a  mind 
Lively  and  ardent,  frank  and  kind  ; 
A  blither  heart  till  Ellen  came, 
Did  never  love  or  sorrow  tame  ; 
It  dr.nced  as  lightsome  in  his  breast, 
As  play'd  the  feather  on  his  crest. 
Yet  friends  who  nearest  knew  the  youth, 
His  scorn  of  wrong,  his  zeal  for  truth. 
And  bards,  who  saw  his  features  bold 
When  kindled  by  the  tales  of  old, 
Said,  were  that  youth  to  manhood  grow 
Not  long  should  Roderick  Dhu's  renown 
Be  foremost  voiced  by  mountain  fame. 
But  quail  to  that  of  Malcolm  Gra:me. 

XXVL 

Now  back  they  wend  their  watery  way, 
And,  "  O  my  sire  !  "  did  Ellen  .say, 
"  Why  urge  thy  chase  so  far  astray } 
And  why  so  late  return'd  .■*     And  why '"  — 
The  rest  was  in  her  speaking  eye. 
"  I\Iy  child,  the  chase  I  follow  far, 
'Tis  mimicry  of  noble  war; 
-And  with  that  gallant  jxastimc  reft 
Were  all  of  Douglas  I  have  left. 
I  met  young  Malcolm  as  I  stray'd, 
Far  eastward,  in  Glenfmlas'  shade. 


Canto  II.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  89 


Nor  stray'd  I  safe  ;  for,  all  around, 
Hunters  and  horsemen  scour'd  the  ground, 
This  youth,  though  still  a  royal  ward, 
Risk'd  life  and  land  to  be  my  guard, 
And  through  the  passes  of  the  wood 
Guided  my  steps,  not  unpursued  ; 
And  Roderick  shall  his  welcome  make, 
Despite  old  spleen,  for  Douglas'  sake. 
Then  must  he  seek  Strath-Endrick  glen, 
Nor  peril  aught  for  me  agen." 

XXVII. 

Sir  Roderick,  who  to  meet  them  came, 
Redden'd  at  sight  of  Malcolm  Graeme, 
Yet,  not  in  action,  word,  or  eye, 
Fail'd  aught  in  hospitality. 
In  talk  and  sport  they  whiled  away 
The  morning  of  that  summer  day ; 
But  at  high-noon  a  courier  light 
Held  secret  parley  with  the  knight, 
Whose  moody  aspect  soon  declared. 
That  evil  were  the  news  he  heard. 
Deep  thought  seem'd  toiling  in  his  head; 
Yet  was  the  evening  banquet  made. 
Ere  he  assembled  round  the  flame, 
His  mother,  Douglas,  and  the  Graeme, 
And  Ellen,  too  ;  then  cast  around 
His  eyes,  then  fixed  them  on  the  ground. 


go  THE    L.inV  OF   Thi:  LAKK.  [Canto  II, 

As  studying  phrase  that  might  avail 
Best  to  convey  unpleasant  tale. 
Long  with  his  dagger's  hilt  he  play'd, 
Then  raised  his  haughty  brow,  and  said: 

XXVIII. 

"  Short  be  my  speech  ;  —  nor  time  affords, 
Nor  my  plain  temper,  glozing  words. 
Kinsman  and  father,  —  if  such  name 
Douglas  vouchsafe  to  Roderick's  claim  ; 
Mine  honor'd  mother ;  —  Ellen  —  why, 
My  cousin,  turn  away  thine  eye.'  — 
And  Gramme  ;  in  wliom  I  hope  to  know 
Full  soon  a  noble  friend  or  foe. 
When  age  shall  give  thee  thy  command, 
And  leading  in  thy  native  land, — 
List  all !  —  The  King's  vindictive  pride 
Boasts  to  have  tamed  the  border  side.' 


'  In  15.9,  James  \.  made  a  convention  at  Edinbiircfh  for  the 
purpose  of  considei  ing  tlic  best  mode  of  quellini,'  the  liordcr  robbers, 
who,  during;  the  license  of  his  minority,  and  the  troubles  which 
followed,  had  committed  inany  exorbitances.  Accordinj^ly,  he 
assembled  a  flyini,'  army  of  ten  thousand  men,  consistmcf  of  his 
principal  nobility  and  their  followers,  who  were  directed  to  brin,^ 
their  hawks  and  doi^s  with  them,  that  the  monarch  miijht  refresh 
himself  with  sport  dining  the  intervals  of  military  execution.  With 
this  array  he  swept  through  ICttrick  Forest,  where  he  hanged  over 
the  gate  of  his  own  cattle  Piers  Corkburn  of  Henderland.  who  had 
prepared,  according  to  tradition,  a  feast  for  his  reception.  He 
caused  Adam  Scott  of  Tu-hielaw  also  to  be  executed,  who  was 
distinguished  bv  the  title  f)f  King  of  the  Tlorder.  Tlut  the  most 
noted  victim  of  justice  during  that  expedition  was  John  Armstrong 


Canto  II.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  gi 

Where  chiefs,  with  hound  and  hawk  who  came, 

To  share  their  monarch's  sylvan  game, 

Themselves  in  bloody  toils  were  snared; 

And  when  the  banquet  they  prepared, 

And  wide  their  loyal  portals  flung, 

O'er  their  own  gateway  struggling  hung. 

Loud  cries  their  blood  from  Meggat's  mead. 

From  Yarrow  braes,  and  banks  of  Tweed, 

Where  the  lone  streams  of  Ettrick  glide, 

And  from  the  silver  Teviot's  side ; 

The  dales,  where  martial  clans  did  ride,' 

Are  now  one  sheep-walk,  waste  and  wide. 

This  tyrant  of  the  Scottish  throne. 

So  faithless,  and  so  ruthless  known. 

Now  hither  comes  ;  his  end  the  same, 

The  same  pretext  of  sylvan  game. 

What  grace  for  Highland  Chiefs,  judge  ye 

By  fate  of  Border  chivalry.^ 

of  Gilnockie,*  famous  in  Scottish  song,  who,  confiding  in  his  own 
supposed  innocenco,  met  the  King,  with  a  retinue  of  tliirtj-six 
persons,  all  of  whom  were  hanged  at  Carlenrig,  near  the  source  of 
the  Teviot.  The  eft'ect  of  this  severity  was  such,  that,  as  the  vulgar 
expressed  it,  "the  rush-bush  kept  the  cow,"  and,  "  thereafter  was 
great  peace  and  rest  for  a  long  time,  wherethrough  the  King  had 
great  profit ;  for  he  had  ten  thousand  sheep  going  in  the  Ettrick 
Forest  in  keeping  by  Andrew  Bell,  who  made  the  King  as  good 
count  of  them  as  they  had  gone  in  the  bounds  of  Fife."  —  Pits- 
cottie's  History,  p.  153. 

^  MS.  :  "The  dales  where  clans  were  wont  to  bide." 
2  James  was  in  fact  equally  attentive  to  restrain  rapine  and  feudal 
oppression  in  every  part  of  his  dominions.     "The  King  past  to  the 
Isles,  and   there  held  justice  courts,  and   punished   both   thief  and 
*  Sec  Border  Minstrelsy,  vol.  i,  p.  393. 


92  Tllh    LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  [Canto  II 

Yet  more  ;  amid  (jlciitinlas  i;i'ccn, 
Douglas,  thy  stately  form  was  seen. 
This  by  espial  sure  I  know  ; 
Your  counsel  in  the  streight  I  show." 

XXIX. 

Ellen  and  Margaret  fearfully 
Sought  comfort  in  each  other's  eye, 
Then  turn'd  their  ghastly  look,  each  one, 
This  to  her  sire,  that  to  her  son. 
The  hasty  color  went  and  came 
In  the  bold  check  of  Malcolm  Graeme ; 
Ikit  from  his  glance  it  well  appear'd, 
'Twa-s  but  for  ICllen  that  he  fear'd  ; 
While,  sorrowful,  but  undismay'd, 
The  Douglas  thus  his  counsel  said  : 
"Brave  Roderick,  though  the  temjiest  roar. 
It  may  but  thunder  and  pass  o'er ; 

traitor  accord! ntj  to  tliL'ir  tlcmcrit.  And  also  lie  caused  j^rcat  inen 
to  .show  their  holdint^'s,  wlicrethroiii^li  lie  found  many  of  tlie  said 
lands  in  non-cntrv;  tlic  wliich  he  confiscate  and  brought  liouie  to 
his  own  use,  and  afterward  annexed  them  to  the  crown,  as  _vc  shall 
hear.  Sync  broiiglit  many  of  the  great  men  of  the  Isles  captive  with 
him,  such  as  Mudyart,  MConncl,  M'Leod  of  tlic  Lewes,  MNeil, 
M'Lane.  M'Intosh.  John  Mudyart,  M'Kay,  MKenzie,  with  many 
other  that  I  cannot  reliearsc  at  this  time.  Some  of  them  he  put  in 
ward  and  some  in  court,  and  sduic  he  took  pledges  for  good  rule  in 
time  comin,';.  So  he  brought  the  Isles,  both  north  and  south,  in 
tjood  rule  and  peace;  wherefore  he  had  great  profit,  service,  and 
obedience  of  people  a  long  time  thereafter:  and  as  long  as  he  h.id 
the  heads  of  the  country  in  subjection,  they  lived  in  great  peace  and 
rest,  and  there  was  great  riches  and  policy  by  the  King's  ju.stice."  — 

PlTSCOTTIi:,  p.    1.S2. 


Canto  II.]  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  93 


Nor  will  I  here  remain  an  hour, 
To  draw  the  lightning  on  thy  bower ; 
For  well  thou  know'st,  at  this  gray  head 
The  royal  bolt  were  fiercest  sped. 
For  thee,  who,  at  thy  King's  command, 
Canst  aid  him  with  a  gallant  band. 
Submission,  homage,  humbled  pride. 
Shall  turn  the  Monarch's  wrath  aside. 
Poor  remnants  of  the  Bleeding  Heart, 
Ellen  and  I  will  seek,  apart. 
The  refuge  of  some  forest  cell. 
There,  like  the  hunted  quarry,  dwell. 
Till  on  the  mountain  and  the  moor. 
The  stern  pursuit  be  pass'd  and  o'er." 


.       XXX. 

"No,  by  mine  honor,"  Roderick  said, 

"  So  help  me.  Heaven,  and  rny  good  blade ! 

No,  never  !     Blasted  be  yon  Pine, 

My  fathers'  ancient  crest  and  mine, 

If  from  its  shade  in  danger  part 

The  lineage  of  the  Bleeding  Heart ! 

Hear  my  blunt  speech  ;  grant  me  this  maid 

To  wife,  thy  counsel  to  mine  aid ; 

To  Douglas,  ^eagued  with  Roderick  Dhu, 

Will  friends  and  allies  flock  enow ; 

Like  cause  of  doubt,  distrust,  and  grief, 

Will  bind  to  us  each  Western  Chief-  . 


94  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  L^anto  11. 

When  tlic  li»ti<l  iii|)cs  ni)'  bridal  IcU, 
'Ihc  Links  t)f  l'\)rth  shall  hear  ihc  knell, 
The  guards  shall  start  in  Stirling's  porch  ; 
And,  when  I  light  the  nU))tial  torch, 
A  thousand  villages  in  flames, 
Shall  scare  the  slumbers  of  King  James! 
—  Nay,  Ellen,  blench  not  thus  away, 
And,  mother,  cease  these  signs,  I  pray  ; 

1  meant  not  all  my   heat  might  say. 
Small  need  of  inroad,  or  of  tight. 
When  the  sage  Douglas  may  unite 
Each  mountain  clan  in  friendl}'  band. 
To  guard  the  passes  of  their  land, 
Till  the  foil'd  king  from  i)at]iless  glen/ 
Shall  bootless  turn  him  home  agcn," 

XXXI. 

There  are  who  have  at  midnight  liour, 

In  slumber  scaled  a  dizzy  tower. 

And  on  the  verge  that  beetled  o'er 

The  ocean  tide's  incessant  roar, 

Dream'd  calmly  out  their  dangerous  dream,' 

Till  waken'd  by  the  morning  beam  ; 

When,  dazzled  by  the  eastern  glow, 

Such  startler  cast  his  glance  below, 

And  saw  unmeasured  depth  around, 

And  heard  unintermittcd  sound, 

'  MS.  :   "Till  fho  foil'd  kin-,',  from  liill  .nnd  i;lon." 

2  MS  DnainM  calmly  out  their  iJL-spcratf  ilri-am.' 


Canto  II.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  95 


And  th()Ui;"ht  the  battled  fenee  so  frail 

It  waved  like  cooweb  in  the  gale;  — 

Amid  his  senses'  giddy  wheel, 

Did  he  not  desperate  impulse  feel, 

Headlong  to  plunge  himself  below, 

And  meet  the  worst  his  fears  foreshow  ?  -= 

Thus,  Ellen,  dizzy  and  astound, 

As  sudden  ruin  yawned  around, 

By  crossing  terrors  wildly  toss'd, 

Still  for  the  Douglas  fearing  most, 

Could  scarce  the  desperate  thought  withstand, 

To  buy  his  safety  with  her  hand. 


XXXII. 

Such  purpose  dread  could  Malcolm  spy 
In  Ellen's  quivering  lip  and  eye, 
And  eager  rose  to  speak  —  but  ere 
His  tongue  could  hurry  forth  his  fear, 
Had  Douglas  mark'd  the  hectic  strife, 
Where  death  seem'd  combating  with  life 
For  to  her  cheek,  in  feverish  flood. 
One  instant  rush'd  the  throbbing  blood, 
Then  ebbing  back,  with  sudden  sway, 
Left  its  domain  as  wan  as  clay. 
"  Roderick,  enough  !  enough  !  "  he  cried; 
"  My  daughter  cannot  be  thy  bride  ; 
Not  that  the  blush  to  wooer  dear. 
Nor  paleness  that  of  maiden  fear, 


90  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE  [Canto  II. 

It  nuiy  mil  be  —  f()rL;i\c  lici',  Chief, 
Nor  hazard  auj^dit  for  our  rehcf. 
Against  his  sovereign,  Douglas  ne'er 
Will  level  a  rebellious  spear. 
'Twas  I  that  taught  his  youthful  hand 
To  rein  a  steed  and  wield  a  brand  ; 
I  see  him  yet,  the  princely  boy ! 
Not  Ellen  more  my  jjride  and  joy  ; 
I  love  him  still,  despite  my  wrongs, 
\\y  hasty  wrath,  and  slanderous  tongues. 
O  seek  the  grace  you  well  may  hntl. 
Without  a  cause  to  mine  combined." 


XXXIIJ. 


Twice  through  the  hall  the  Chieftain  strode; 
The  waving  of  his  tartans  broad, 
And  darken'd  brow,  where  wounded  pride 
With  ire  and  disappointment  vied, 
Seem'd,  by  the  torch's  gloomy  light, 
Like  the  ill  demon  of  the  night, 
Stooping  his  pinions'  shadowy  sway 
Upon  the  nighted  ])ilgrim's  way ; 
But,  unrecpiited  Love  !  thy  ilart 
Plunged  deepest  its  envenom'd  smart. 
And  Roderick,  with  thine  anguish  slung, 
At  length  the  hand  of  Douglas  wrung. 
While  eyes,  that  mock'd  at  tears  before, 
With  bitter  (lir)ps  were  running  o'er. 


CANTO  II.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  97 


The  death-pangs  of  long-eherish'd  hope 
Scarce  in  that  ample  breast  had  scope, 
But,  struggHng  with  his  spirit  proud, 
Convulsive  heaved  its  checker'd  shroud, 
While  every  sob  —  so  mute  were  all  — 
Was  heard  distinctly  through  the  hall. 
The  son's  despair,  the  mother's  look, 
111  might  the  gentle  Ellen  brook ; 
She  rose,  and  to  her  side  there  came, 
To  aid  her  parting  steps,  the  Graeme. 

XXXIV. 

Then  Roderick  from  the  Douglas  broke  — 

As  flashes  flame  through  sable  smoke, 

Kindling  its  wreaths,  long,  dark,  and  low 

To  one  broad  blaze  of  ruddy  glow, 

So  the  deep  anguish  of  despair ' 

Burst,  in  fierce  jealousy,  to  air. 

With  stalwart  grasp  his  hand  he  laid 

On  Malcolm's  breast  and  belted  plaid  ; 

"Back,  beardless  boy!"  he  sternly  said, 

"  Back,  minion  !  hold'st  thou  thus  at  naught 

The  lesson  I  so  lately  taught .'' 

This  roof,  the  Douglas,  and  that  maid. 

Thank  thou  for  punishment  dclay'd." 


1  MS.  :  "The  deep-toned  anguish  of  despair 
Flush'd,  in  fierce  jealousy,  to  air." 


98  THE   LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  [Canto  II. 

Eager  as  grcyliouiul  ow  his  game, 

fiercely  with  Roderick  grappled  Graeme." 

"Perish  my  name,  if  aught  afford 

Its  Chieftain  safety  save  his  sword ! " 

Thus  as  they  strove,  their  desperate  hand* 

Griped  to  the  dagger  or  the  brantl, 

And  death  had  been  —  but  Douglas  rose, 

And  thrust  between  the  struggling  foes 

His  giant  strength  :  —  "Chieftains,  forego! 

I  hold  the  first  who  strikes,  my  foe."^ 

Madmen,  forbear  your  frantic  jar  ! 

What  !  is  the  Douglas  fall'n  so  far. 

His  daughter's  hand  is  deem'd  the  si)oil 

Of  such  dishonorable  broil  !" 

Sullen  and  slowly,  they  unclasp,'* 

As  struck  with  shame,  their  desperate  grasp. 

And  each  ujion  his  rival  glared, 

With  foot  ad\-anced  and  blade  hnlf  Ixired. 


'   '■  'riicre  is  somcthinj:;  foppish  and  out  of  character  in  Malcohn'a 
rising  to  lead  out  Ellen  from  her  own  parlor:   and  the  sort  of  wrest- 
lini,'  match    that    takes   jilare  hetween    the    rival   chieftains  on   the 
occasion  is  humiliatin;,' and  indecorous." — Jkki-key. 
2  MS.  :  "Thus,  as  they  strove,  each  better  hand 
Ctr(is/<'(/  for  the  dagjjer  or  the  brand." 
'^  'Ihc  author  has  to  apologize  for  the   inadv-int   np|iro]Miation 
of  a  whole  line  from  the  tragedy  of  Douglas, 

"  1  hold  the  first  who  strikes,  my  foe." 

—  A'ofc  to  the  Second  Edition. 
'  MS  :   "  Sullen  and  slow  the  rivals  bold 

Loos'd  at  his  best  their  desperate  hold, 
But  either  still  on  other  glar'tl,"  etc. 


Canto  11]  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  99 

XXXV. 

Ere  yet  the  brands  aloft  were  flung, 
Margaret  on  Roderick's  mantle  hung, 
And  Malcolm  heard  his  Ellen's  scream, 
As  falter'd  through  terrific  dream. 
Then  Roderick  plunged  in  sheath  his  sword, 
And  veil'd  his  wrath  in  scornful  word. 
''  Rest  safe  till  morning  ;  pity  'twere 
Such  cheek  should  feel  the  midnight  air ! ' 


'  Hardihood  was  in  every  respect  so  essential  to  the  character  of 
.1  Highlander,  that  the  reproach  of  efleminacy  was  the  most  hitter 
which  could  be  thrown  upon  him.  Yet  it  was  sometimes  hazarded 
on  what  we  might  presume  to  think  slight  grounds.  It  is  reported 
of  old  Sir  Ewen  Cameron  of  Lochiel,  when  upwards  of  seventy,  that 
Ae  was  surprised  by  night  on  a  hunting  or  military  expedition. 
He  wrapped  him  in  his  plaid,  and  lay  contentedly  down  upon  the 
snow,  with  which  the  ground  happened  to  be  covered.  Among  his 
attendants,  who  were  preparing  to  take  tlieir  rest  in  the  same  man- 
ner, he  observed  that  one  of  his  grandsons,  for  his  better  accommo- 
dation, had  rolled  a  large  snow-ball,  and  placed  it  below  his  head. 
The  wrath  of  the  ancient  chief  was  awakened  by  a  symptom  of  what 
he  conceived  to  be  degenerate  luxury.  "  Out  upon  thee,"  said  he, 
kicking  the  frozen  bolster  from  the  head  which  it  supported;  "  art 
thou  so  effeminate  as  to  need  a  pillow.?"  The  officer  of  engineers, 
whose  curious  letters  from  the  Highlands  have  been  more  than  once 
quoted,  tells  a  similar  story  of  Macdonald  of  Keppoch,  and  subjoins 
the  following  remarks:  —  "This  and  many  other  stories  are  ro- 
mantick;  but  tliere  is  one  thing,  that  at  first  thought  might  seem 
very  romantick,  of  which  I  have  been  credibly  assured,  that  when 
the  Highlanders  are  constrained  to  lie  among  the  hills,  in  cold,  dry, 
windy  weather,  they  sometimes  soak  the  plaid  in  some  river  or  burn 
(/.  c.  brook),  and  then  holding  up  a  corner  of  it  a  little  above  their 
heads,  they  turn  themselves  round  and  round,  till  thev  are  enveloped 
hy  the  whole  mantle.  They  then  lay  themselves  down  on  the  heath, 
upon  the  leeward  side  of  some  hill,  where  the  wet  and  the  warmth  of 


lOO  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  [Canto  U. 


Then  maycsl  thou  lo  James  Stewarl  lell 
Roderick  will  keep  the  lake  and  fell, 
Nor  lackey,  with  his  frecborn  clan, 
The  pageant  pomp  of  earthly  man. 
More  would  he  of  Clan-Alpine  know. 
Thou  canst  our  strength  and  passes  show. 
Malise,  what  ho!"  —  his  henchman  came;' 
"Give  our  safe-conduct  ^o  the  Graeme." 

their  bodies  make  a  steam,  like  tliat  of  a  boilinj?  kettle.  The  wet, 
they  say,  keeps  them  warm  by  thickeninji  the  stiilV,  ami  kecpiiiLj  liie 
wind  from  penetrating.  I  must  confess  I  should  have  been  apt  to 
question  tliis  fact,  had  I  not  frequently  seen  them  wet  from  morning 
to  night,  and,  even  at  the  beginning  of  the  rain,  not  so  much  as  stir 
a  few  vards  to  shelter,  but  continue  in  it  without  necessity,  till  they 
were,  ixs  we  say,  wet  through  and  llirough.  And  that  is  soon  elVectcd 
by  the  looseness  and  spunginess  of  the  plaiding;  but  the  bonnet  is 
frequently  taken  olT  and  wrung  like  a  dishclout.  and  then  put  on 
again.  Thev  have  been  accustomed  from  their  infancy  to  be  often 
wet,  and  to  take  the  water  like  spaniels,  and  this  is  become  a  second 
nature,  and  can  scarcely  be  called  a  hardship  to  them,  insomuch 
that  I  used  to  say,  they  seemed  to  be  of  the  duck  kind,  and  to  love 
water  as  well.  Though  I  never  saw  this  preparation  for  sleep  in 
windy  weather,  yet,  setting  out  early  in  a  morning  from  one  of  the 
huts,  I  have  seen  the  marks  of  their  lodging,  where  the  ground  has 
been  free  from  rime  or  snow,  which  remained  all  round  the  spot 
where  they  had  \a\w"  —  Letters  from  Scotliiml,\-<^m<^.,  1754,  8vo, 
ii,  p.  i(>S. 

*  "  This  ofllcer  is  a  sort  of  secretary,  and  is  to  be  reaily,  upon 
all  occasions,  to  venture  his  life  in  defence  of  his  master;  and  at 
drinking-bouts  he  stands  behind  his  scat,  at  his  haunch,  from 
whence  his  title  is  derived,  and  watches  the  conver>ation.  to  see  if 
any  one  ofTends  liis  patron.  An  English  ofTicer  being  in  company 
with  a  certain  chieftain,  and  several  other  Highland  gentlemen, 
near  Kilichumcn.  had  an  argument  with  the  c>'<'cf  "'(^"  ■  ^"'^  both 
hcinir  Will  warmed  with  usky.*  at  last  the  dispute  trrew  very  hot.  A 
youth  who  was  henchman,  not  understandmg  one  word  of  English, 

•  W)iisky. 


Canto  II.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  lor 


Young  Malcolm  answer'd,  calm  and  bold, 
**  Fear  nothing  for  thy  favorite  hold  ; 
The  spot  an  angel  deigned  to  grace 
Is  bless'd,  though  robbers  haunt  the  place 
Thy  churlish  courtesy  for  those 
Reserve,  who  fear  to  be  thy  foes. 
As  safe  to  me  the  mountain  way 
At  midnight  as  in  blaze  of  day, 
Though  with  his  boldest  at  his  back 
Even  Roderick  Dhu  beset  the  track. 
Brave  Douglas,  —  lovely  Ellen,  —  nay, 
Naught  here  of  parting  will  I  say. 
Earth  does  not  hold  a  lonesome  glen, 
So  secret,  but  we  meet  agen. 
Chieftain!  we  too  shall  find  a!i  hour." 
He  said,  and  left  the  sylvan  bower. 

XXXVI. 

Old  Allan  follow'd  to  the  strand, 
(Such  was  the  Douglas's  command,) 
And  anxious  told,  how,  on  the  morn, 
The  stern  Sir  Roderick  deep  had  sworn, 

imagined  his  chief  was  insulted,  and  thereupon  drew  his  pistol  from 
his  side,  and  snapped  it  at  the  officer's  head ;  but  the  pistol  missed 
fire,  otherwise  it  is  more  than  probable  he  might  have  suffered  death 
from  the  hand  of  that  little  vermin.  But  it  is  very  disagreeable  to 
an  Englishman  over  a  bottle  with  the  Highlanders,  to  see  every  one 
of  them  have  his  gillv.  that  is.  his  se'-vant.  standing  behind  him,  all 
the  wliilc.  let  what  will  be  tne  subject  of  conversation." — Letters 
from  Scotland,  ii,  159. 


I02  THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  [Canto  II. 


The  Fiery  Cross  should  circle  o'er 
Dale,  glen,  and  valley,  down,  and  moor. 
Much  were  the  peril  to  the  Grccme, 
From  those  who  to  the  signal  came; 
Far  uj)  the  lake  'twere  safest  lantl, 
Himself  would  row  him  to  the  strand, 
He  gave  his  counsel  to  the  wind, 
While  Malcolm  did,  unheeding,  bind, 
Round  dirk  and  pouch  and  broadsword  roll'd, 
His  ami^le  plaid  "n  tighten'd  fold. 
And  stripp'd  bis  limbs  to  such  array. 
As  best  might  suit  the  watery  way, — 


XXXVH. 

•Then  spoke  abrupt  :  "  Ivarewell  to  Ihce, 
Pattern  of  ohi  fidelity!" 
The  Minstrel's  hand  he  kindly  press'd. -- 
"  O  !  could  I  point  a  place  of  rest ! 
My  sovereign  holds  in  ward  my  land. 
My  uncle  leads  my  vassal  band  ; 
To  tame  his  foes,  bi?  friends  to  aid, 
Poor  Malcolm  has  but  heart  and  blade. 
Yet,  if  there  be  one  faithful  Grccme, 
Who  loves  the  Chieftain  of  his  name, 
Not  long  shall  honored  Douglas  dwell. 
Like  hunted  stag  in  mountain  cell ; 
Nor,  ere  yon  pride-swolTn  robber  dare, — 
I  may  not  give  the  rest  to  air! 


Canto  II.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  103 


Tell  Roderick  Dhu,  I  owed  him  naught, 
Not  the  poor  service  01  a  boat, 
To  waft  me  to  yon  mountain-side." 
Then  plunged  he  in  the  flashing  tide.' 
Bold  o'er  the  flood  his  head  he  bore. 
And  stoutly  steer'd  him  from  the  shore ; 
And  Allan  strain'd  his  anxious  eye. 
Far  'mid  the  lake  his  form  to  spy. 
Darkening  across  each  puny  wave. 
To  which  the  moon  her  silver  gave, 
Fast  as  the  cormorant  could  skim. 
The  swimmer  plied  each  active  limb ; 
Then  landing  in  the  moonlight  dell, 
Loud  shouted  of  his  weal  to  tell. 
The  minstrel  heard  the  far  halloo. 
And  joyful  from  the  shore  withdrew. 

1  MS.  :  "  He  spoke,  and  plunged  into  the  tide. 


CANTO    THIRD. 

THE      GATHERING. 

I. 

Time  rolls  his  ceaseless  course.     The  race  of  yore,' 

Who  danced  our  infancy  upon  their  knee, 
And  told  our  marvelling  boyhood  legends  store, 

Of  their  strange  ventures  haj^p'd  by  land  or  sea. 
How  are  they  blotted  from  the  things  that  be! 

How  few,  all  weak  and  wither'd  of  their  force, 
Wait  on  the  verge  of  dark  eternity, 

Like  stranded  wrecks,  the  tide  returning  hoarse, 
To  sweep  them  from  our  sight !     Time  rolls  ins  cease- 
less course. 
Yet  live  there  still  who  can  remember  well. 

How,  when  a  mountain  chief  his  bugle  blew, 
lioth  field  and  forest,  dingle,  cliff,  and  dell, 

And  solitary  heath,  the  signal  knew; 
And  fast  the  faithful  clan  around  him  drew. 

What  time  the  warning  note  was  keenly  wound, 


1  "  There  are  no  separate  introductions  to  tiie  cantos  of  this  pocin  ; 
but  each  of  tlieni  bei^ins  with  one  or  two  stanzas  in  the  measure  of 
Spenser,  usually  containing  some  rellections  connected  with  the 
subject  about  to  be  entered  on;  and  written,  for  the  most  part,  with 
great  tenderness  and  beauty.  The  following,  we  think,  is  among 
the  most  striking." —  Ji.ii  ki  v. 
«f>4 


Canto  III.]       THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  105 

What  time  aloft  their  kindred  banner  flew, 

While  clamorous  war-pipes  yell'd  the  gathering  sound, 
And  while  the  Fiery  Cross  glanced,  like  a  meteor,  round.^ 


II. 

The  summer  dawn's  reflected  hue 

To  purple  changed  Loch  Katrine  blue ; 

Mildly  and  soft  the  western  breeze 

Just  kiss'd  the  Lake,  just  stirr'd  the  trees. 

And  the  pleased  lake,  like  maiden  coy, 

Trembled  but  dimpled  not  for  joy  ; 

The  mountain-shadows  on  her  breast 

Were  neither  broken  nor  at  rest ; 

In  bright  uncertainty  they  lie, 

Like  future  joys  to  Fancy's  eye. 

The  water-lily    to  the  light 

Her  chalice  rear'd  of  silver  bright  ; 

The  doe  awoke,  and  to  the  lawn, 

Begemm'd  with  dew  drops,  led  her  fawn  ; 

The  gray  mist  left  ^  the  mountain  side. 

The  torrent  show'd  its  glistening  pride  ; 

Invisible  in  flecked  sky, 

The  lark  sent  down  her  revelry ; 


1  See  Appendix,  Note  F. 

^  MS.:  "The  doe  awoke,  and  to  the  lawn 

Begemm'd  with  dewdiops,  led  her  fawn, 

Invisible  in  fleecy  cloud, 

The  lark  sent  down  her  matins  loud; 

The  light  mist  left,"  etc. 


I06  THE  LADY  OF    77 f/'.    r.AKE.         [Canto  iii. 

The  blackbird  and  the  speckled  thrush 
Good-niorrovv  gave  from  brake  and  bush  ; ' 
In  answer  coo'd  the  cushat  dove 
Her  notes  of  peace,  and  rest,  and  love. 

III. 

No  thought  of  peace,  no  thought  of  rest, 

Assuaged  the  storm  in  Roderick's  breast. 

With  sheathed  broadsword  in  his  hand, 

Abruj)t  he  paced  the  islet  strand, 

And  eyed  the  rising  sun,  and  laid 

Mis  hand  on  his  impatient  blade. 

Beneath  a  r(jck,  his  vassals'  care' 

Was  prompt  the  ritual  to  prepare. 

With  deep  and  death ful  meaning  fraught ; 

l-'or  such  Anticjuity  hatl  taught 

Was  preface  meet,  ere  yet  abroad 

The  Cross  of  T'ire  should  take  its  road. 

The  shrinking  band  stood  oft  aghast 

At  the  impatient  glance  he  cast ;  — 

Such  glance  the  mountain  eagle  threw, 

As,  from  the  cliffs  of  Benvenue, 

She  spread  her  dark  sails  on  the  wind, 

And,  high  in  middle  heaven,  reclined, 

'  "  'I'lic  iricoM  hills 


Are  clothed  with  earl  v  l)l(>ssoins ;   throu^^h  the  grass 
The  qiiiek-cved  lizard  rustles,  and  the  hills 
Of  t-uinincr  hirds  sini,'  wclcoine  as  ve  pass." —  C/ii/dr  llmohl 
'  MS.  :  "  Hard  bv,  his  vassals'  earl\-  rare 
The  .'Tiystic  ritual  prepare." 


Canto  III.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  107 

With  her  broad  shadow  on  the  lake, 
Silenced  the  warblers  of  the  brake. 


IV. 

A  heap  of  wither'd  boughs  was  piled 

Of  juniper  and  rowan  wild, 

Mingled  with  shivers  from  the  oak. 

Rent  by  the  lightning's  recent  stroke. 

Brian,  the  Hermit,  by  it  stood. 

Barefooted,  in  his  frock  and  hood. 

His  grisled  beard  and  matted  hair 

Obscured  a  visage  of  despair ; 

His  naked  arms  and  legs  seam'd  o'er, 

The  scars  of  frantic  penance  bore. 

That  monk,  of  savage  form  and  face,' 

The  impending  danger  of  his  race 

Had  drawn  from  deepest  solitude. 

Far  in  Benharrow's  bosom  rude. 

Not  his  the  mien  of  Christian  priest. 

But  Druid's,  from  the  grave  released. 

Whose  harden'd  heart  and  eye  might  brook 

On  human  sacrifice  to  look ; 

And  much,  'twas  said,  of  heathen  lore 

Mix'd  in  the  charms  he  mutter'd  o'er. 

The  hallow'd  creed  gave  only  worse  ^ 

And  deadlier  emphasis  of  curse  ; 

1  Sec  Appendix,  Note  G. 

2  MS.  :  ''  While  the  bless'd  creed  gave  onlj  worse." 


I08  THE    LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.         [Cant..  III. 

No  peasant  sought  that  liciniit's  prayer, 
His  cave  the  pilgrim  shunn'cl  with  care, 
The  eager  huntsman  knew  liis  bound. 
And  in  mid  chase  call'd  off  his  hound ; 
Or  if,  in  lonely  glen  or  strath, 
The  desert-dweller  met  his  path, 
He  pray'd  and  sign'd  the  cross  betw«.xn. 
While  terror  took  devotion's  mien.' 

V. 

Of  Brian's  birth  strange  tales  were  told.- 
His  mother  watch'd  a  midnight  fold, 

'  MS.  :   "  lie  pray'd  witli  many  a  cross  between, 
And  terror  took  devotion's  mien." 

-  The  legend  wliicli  follows  is  not  of  the  author's  in\ention.  It 
i ;  possible  lie  niav  dilVer  from  modern  critics,  in  siip|iosing  that  the 
records  of  human  superstition,  if  peculiar  to,  and  characteristic  of, 
the  country  in  which  tlie  scene  is  laid,  are  a  legitimate  subject  of 
poetry.  lie  gives,  however,  a  ready  assent  to  the  narro>ver  propo- 
sition which  condemns  all  attempts  of  an  irregular  and  disordered 
fancv  to  excite  terror,  by  accumulating  a  train  of  fantastic  and  in- 
coherent horrors,  whetiier  borrowed  from  all  countries,  and  patched 
upon  a  nai'rativc  belonging  to  one  wiiicli  knew  tluin  not,  or  derived 
frf)m  the  author's  own  imagination.  In  the  juesL-nt  case,  Iheieforc, 
I  appeal  to  the  record  which  I  have  transcribed,  with  the  variation 
of  a  very  few  words,  from  the  geographical  collections  mad?  by  the 
Lain!  of  Macfarlane.  I  know  not  whether  it  be  necessary  to  remark, 
that  the  miscellaneous  concourse  of  vouths  and  maidens  on  the 
night  and  on  the  spot  where  the  miracle  is  said  to  have  taken  place, 
mifrht,  even  in  a  credulous  age.  have  somewhat  diuiinished  the 
wonder  which  accompanied  the  conception  of  fiilli-Doir-Magre- 
vollich. 

"There  is  bot  two  tnvles  from  Inverloghie.  the  church  of  Kil- 
nialec,  in  Loghyeld.  In  ancient  tym<>s  there  was  ane  church  buildtd 
upon  ane  hill,  whii  h  was  above  this  chmch.  whi<h  doeth  now  stand 
in  this  tounc;  and  ancient  men  doeth  sav.  that  there  was  a  battel! 


Canto  III.]  J  HE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  IO9 


Built  dec})  within  a  dreary  glen, 
Where  scatter'd  lay  the  bones  of  men, 
In  some  forgotten  battle  slain, 
And  bleach'd  by  drifting  wind  and  rain. 
It  might  have  tamed  a  warrior's  heart,' 
To  view  such  mockery  of  his  art ! 

foughten  on  ane  litle  hill  not  the  tenth  part  of  a  mile  from  this 
church,  be  certaine  men  which  they  did  not  know  what  they  were. 
And  long  tjme  thereafter,  certaine  herds  of  that  toune,  and  of  the 
next  toune,  called  Unnatt,  both  wenches  and  youthes,  did  on  a  tyme 
conveen  with  others  on  that  Hill  ;  and  the  day  being  somewhat  cold, 
did  gather  the  bones  of  the  dead  men  that  were  slayne  long  time 
before  in  that  place,  and  did  make  a  fire  to  warm  them.  At  last 
they  did  all  remove  from  the  fire,  except  one  maid  or  wench,  which 
was  verie  cold,  and  she  did  remain  there  for  a  space.  She  being 
quyetlie  her  alone,  without  anie  other  companie,  took  up  her  cloaths 
above  her  knees,  or  thereby,  to  warm  her;  a  wind  did  come  and 
caste  the  ashes  upon  her,  and  she  was  conceived  of  ane  man-chyld. 
Severall  tymes  thereafter  she  was  verie  sick,  and  at  last  she  was 
knowne  to  be  with  chyld.  And  then  her  parents  did  ask  at  her  the 
matter  heiroff,  which  the  wench  could  not  weel  answer  which  way 
to  satisfie  them.  At  last  she  resolved  them  with  ane  answer.  As 
fortune  fell  upon  her  concerning  this  marvellous  miracle,  the  chyld 
being  borne,  his  name  was  called  Gilli-Doir-JMaglircz'ollich,  that  is 
to  say,  the  Black  Child,  Son  to  the  Bones.  So  called,  his  grand- 
father sent  him  to  school,  and  so  he  was  a  good  schollar,  and  godlie. 
He  did  build  this  church  which  doeth  now  stand  in  Lochyeld,  called 
Kilmalee."  —  Macfarlane,  at  supra,  ii.  iSS. 

1  "  There  is  something  of  pride  in  the  perilous  hour, 
Whate'er  be  the  shape  in  which  death  may  lower; 
For  Fame  is  there  to  say  who  bleeds. 
And  Honor's  eye  on  daring  deeds  ! 
But  when  all  is  past,  it  is  humbling  to  tread 
O'er  the  weltering  field  of  the  tombless  dead, 
And  see  worms  of  the  earth,  and  fowls  of  the  air. 
Beasts  of  the  forest,  all  gathering  there; 
All  regarding  man  as  their  prey. 
All  rejoicing  in  his  decay."  —  Byron —  Siege  of  Corinth. 


NO  THE  LADY  OF    THE  LAKE.         [Canto  m 

The  knot-grass  fcUci'el  ihcic  the  liaiul, 
Which  once  could  burst  an  iron  band  ; 
Beneath  the  broad  and  ample  bone, 
That  Ijuckler'd  heart  to  fear  unknown, 
A  feeble  and  a  timorous  guest, 
The  field-fare  framed  her  lowly  nest ; 
There  the  slow  blind-worm  left  his  slime 
On  the  fleet  limbs  that  mock'd  at  time; 
And  there,  too,  lay  the  leader's  skull,' 
Still  wreathed  with  chaplet,  flushed  and  full. 
I 'or  heath-bell,  with  her  purple  bloom. 
Supplied  the  bonnet  and  the  jjlume.^ 
All  night,  in  this  sad  glen,  the  maid 
Sate,  shrouded  in  her  mantle's  shade  : 
—  She  said,  no  shepherd  sought  her  side, 
\()  hunter's  hand  her  snood  untied, 


"  Remove  von  skull  from  out  the  scaUcrcd  heaps. 

Is  iliat  a  temple  where  a  i^ocl  may  dwell? 

Whv,  even  tlie  worm  at  last  disdains  iier  shattered  cell. 

Look  on  its  hroken  arch,  its  ruin'd  wall,  • 

Its  chamhers  desolate,  and  portals  foul ; 

Yet  this  was  once  Amhilioii's  airy  hall, 

The  dome  of  thoii.i,'ht,  the  palace  of  the  soul  : 

Rehold  throui^h  eaih  lack-lustre,  eyeless  hole, 

The  •,'av  recess  of  wisdom  and  of  wit, 

And  passion's  host,  that  never  brook'd  controul : 

Can  all  saint,  saijc.  or  sophist  ever  writ. 

People  this  lonely  tower,  this  tenement  refit  ?" 

C/iildv  /  far  old. 
*  "These  reflections  on  an  ancient  field  of  battle  aflord  the  most 
remarkable  instance  of  false  taste  in  all   Mr.  Scott's  wrilin.i,'s.     Vet 
the  brevitv  and  variety  of  ihe  imai^es  serve  well  to  shew,  that  even 
in  his  errors  there  are  traces  of  a  powerful  genius." — Jki-|-rkv. 


Canto  III.]         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  Ill 


Yet  ne'er  again  to  braid  her  hair 
The  virgin  snood  did  Alice  wear  ; ' 
Gone  was  her  maiden  glee  and  sport, 
Her  maiden  girdle  all  too  short, 
Nor  sought  she,  from  that  fatal  night, 
Or  holy  church  or  blessed  rite, 
But  lock'd  her  secret  in  her  breast, 
And  died  in  travail,  unconfess'd. 


VI. 

Alone  among  his  young  compeers, 
Was  Brian  from  his  infant  years  ; 
A  moody  and  heart-broken  boy, 
ji^stranged  from  sympathy  and  joy. 
Bearing  each  taunt  which  careless  tongue 
On  his  mysterious  lineage  flung. 
Whole  nights  he  spent  by  moonlight  pale. 
To  wood  and  stream  his  hap  to  wail, 

^  The  snood,  or  riband,  with  which  a  Scottish  lass  braided  hei 
hair,  had  an  emblematical  signification,  and  applied  to  her  maiden 
character.  It  was  exchanged  for  the  ciirch,  toy,  or  coif,  when  she 
passed,  by  marriage,  into  the  matron  state.  But  if  the  damsel  was 
so  unfortunate  as  to  lose  pretensions  to  the  name  of  maiden,  without 
gaining  a  right  to  that  of  matron,  she  was  neither  permitted  to  use 
the  snood,  nor  advanced  to  the  graver  dignity  of  the  curch.  In  old 
Scottish  songs  there  occur  many  sly  allusions  to  such  misfortune; 
as  in  the  old  words  to  the  popular  tune  of  "  Ower  the  muir  amang 
the  heather." 

"  Down  amang  the  broom,  the  broom, 
Do\\n  amang  the  broom,  my  dearie, 
The  lassie  lost  her  silken  snood, 

That  gard  her  greet  till  she  was  wearie." 


1 1 2  THE  LAD  J '  OF  THE  LAKE.        [Cant.,  hi. 

Till,  frantic,  he  as  liulh  rcceixxcl' 
What  of  his  birth  the  crowd  believed, 
And  sought,  in  mist  and  meteor  fire, 
To  meet  and  know  his  Phantom  Sire  ! 
In  vain,  to  soothe  his  wayward  fate. 
The  cloister  oped  her  i^itying  gate  ; 
In  vain,  tlie  learning  of  the  age 
Unclasp'd  the  sabledetter'd  page  : 
Even  in  its  treasures  he  could  find 
Food  for  the  fever  of  his  mind. 
Eager  he  reatl  whatever  tells 
Of  magic,  cabala,  and  spells, 
And  every  dark  pursuit  allied 
To  curious  and  presumptuous  pride  ; 
Till  with  fired  brain  and  nerves  o'erslrung. 
And  heart  with  mystic  horrors  rung, 
Desperate  he  sought  Benharrow's  den, 
And  hid  him  from  the  haunts  of  men. 


VII. 

The  desert  gave  him  visions  wild, 
Such  as  might  suit  the  spectre's  child.- 

^  MS. :  "  Till  diiveii  tn  frenzy,  he  believed 
Tlic  legend  of  his  birth  received.'' 

2  In  adoj.tinj;  the  legend  concerning  the  birth  of  tlic  I'OuiuIer  of 
the  Church  of  Kilni.iite,  tlie  author  ha.s  endeavored  to  trace  the 
cffcct.s  which  such  a  belief  was  likely  to  produce,  in  a  barbarous  age, 
on  the  person  to  whom  it  related.  It  seems  likely  that  he  mu^t  have 
become  a  fanatic  or  an  impostor,  or  tiiat  niixlnre  of  both  which 
form.s  a  more  frequent  character  than  either  of  them  as  existing 
separately.      In    truth,  mad  persons   arc   frecpiently   more    anxious    to 


Canto  III.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  II3 


Where  with  black  cliffs  the  torrents  toil, 

He  watch'd  the  wheeling  eddies  boil, 

Till,  from  their  foam,  his  dazzled  eyes 

Beheld  the  River  Demon  rise  ; 

The  mountain  mist  took  form  and  limb, 

Of  noontide  hag,  or  goblin  grim ; 

The  midnight  wind  came  wild  and  dread, 

Swell'd  with  the  voices  of  the  dead  ; 

Far  on  the  future  battle-heath 

His  eye  beheld  the  ranks  of  death  : 


impress  upon  others  a  faith  in  their  visions,  than  they  are  them- 
selves confirmed  in  their  reality;  as,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  dithcult 
for  the  most  cool-headed  impostor  long  to  personate  an  enthusiast, 
without  in  some  degree  believing  what  he  is  so  eager  to  have 
believed.  It  was  a  natural  attribute  of  such  a  character  as  the  sup- 
posed hermit,  that  he  should  credit  the  numerous  superstitions  with 
which  the  minds  of  ordinary  Highlanders  are  almost  always  imbued. 
A  few  of  these  are  slightly  alluded  to  in  this  stanza.  The  River 
Demon,  or  River-horse,  for  it  is  that  form  which  he  commonly 
assumes,  is  the  Kelpy  of  the  Lowlands,  an  evil  and  malicious  spirit, 
delighting  to  forbode  and  to  witness  calamity.  He  frequents  most 
Highland  lakes  and  rivers;  and  one  of  his  most  memorable  exploits 
was  performed  upon  the  banks  of  Loch  Vennachar,  in  the  very  dis- 
trict which  forms  the  scene  of  our  action :  it  consisted  in  the 
destruction  of  a  funeral  procession  with  all  its  attendants.  The 
"  noontide  hag,"  called  in  Gaelic  Glas-ltch,  a  tall,  emaciated,  gigantic 
female  figure,  is  supposed  in  particular  to  haunt  the  district  of 
Knoidart.  A  goblin  dressed  in  antique  armor,  and  having  one  hand 
covered  with  blood,  called  from  that  circumstance,  Lhamdcarg,  or 
Red-hand,  is  a  tenant  of  the  forests  of  Glenmore  and  Rothiemurcus. 
Other  spirits  of  the  desert,  all  frightful  in  shape  and  malignant  in 
disposition,  are  believed  to  frequent  diflierent  mountains  and  glens 
of  the  Highlands,  where  any  unusual  appearance,  produced  by  mist, 
or  the  strange  iights  that  are  sometimes  thrown  upon  particular 
objects,  never  fails  to  present  an  apparition  to  the  imagination  of 
the  solitary  and  melancholy  mountaineer. 


114  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.         [Canto  III 


'I'luis  the  lunc  Sccr,  from  iiKuikind  hiiird, 
Shaped  forth  a  disembodied  world. 
One  Hngerinj^  sympathy  of  mind 
Still  bound  him  to  the  mortal  kind  ; 
The  only  parent  he  could  claim 
Of  ancient  Al])ine's  ]incat;c  came. 
Late  had  he  heard,  in  prophet's  dream, 
The  fatal  Ben-Shie's  boding  scream  ; ' 
Sounds,  too,  had  come  in  midnii;ht  blast, 
Of  charj;ing  steeds,  careering  fast 
Along  Benharrow's  shingly  side. 
Where  mortal  horseman  ne'er  might  ride  \- 

^  MS.  :  "The  fatal  Hcn-Sliie's  f^'.<;//f7/ scream  ; 
And  seen  lier  wrinklcti  fonn.  the  si^n 
or  woe  and  deatl)  to  Alj^ineV  line." 

Most  great  families  in  the  I  lit,dil:nuls  were  siippored  to  have  a 
tutelar,  or  rather  domestic  spirit,  attached  to  them,  who  took  an 
interest  in  their  prosperity,  and  intiniatcd  by  its  wailinjLjs  any  ap- 
proaching^ disaster.  That  of  Grant  of  Grant  was  called  May 
Moullacli.  and  appeared  in  the  form  of  a  ijirl,  who  had  her  arm 
covered  with  hair.  Grant  of  Rot.iiemurcus  hati  an  atteiulanl  callei! 
Bo(/(ir/i-nn-(/iiii,  or  the  C>h<jst  of  the  I'ill:  and  many  other  examples 
might  be  mentioned.  The  Han-Schie  implies  a  female  Fairy,  whose 
lamentations  weie  often  supposed  to  precede  the  death  of  a  chieftain 
of  particular  families.  When  she  is  visible,  it  is  in  the  form  of  an 
old  woman,  with  a  blue  mantle  and  streaming  hair.  A  superstition 
of  the  same  kind  is,  I  believe,  universally  received  by  the  inferior 
.-anks  of  the  native  Irish. 

The  death  of  the  head  of  a  Highland  family  is  also  somctimer. 
supposed  to  be  announced  by  a  chain  of  lights  of  difVcrent  colors, 
called  Drrrnr.  or  death  of  the  Dniid.  The  direction  which  it  takes, 
marks  the  place  of  the  fuiu  i:>l.  See  the  Ess.iy  on  I'airy  Superstitions 
in  the  liorder  Minstrelsy. 
^  Sec  Appendix,  Note  II. 


Canto  111.]         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  IIJ 


The  Umiulorbolt  had  si)ht  the  pine, —      » 

All  augur'd  ill  to  Alpine's  line. 

He  girt  his  loins,  and  came  to  show 

The  signals  of  impending  woe, 

And  now  stood  prompt  to  bless  or  ban, 

As  bade  the  Chieftain  of  his  clan. 

VIII. 

'Twas  all  prepar'd  ;  —  and  from  the  rock, 
A  goat,  the  patriarch  of  the  flock, 
Before  the  kindling  pile  was  laid, 
And  pierced  by  Roderick's  ready  blade 
Patient  the  sickening  victim  eyed 
The  life-blood  ebb  in  crimson  tide, 
Down  his  clogg'd  beard  and  shaggy  limb. 
Till  darkness  glazed  his  eyeballs  dim. 
The  grisly  priest,  with  murmuring  prayer, 
A  slender  crosslet  form'd  with  care, 
A  cubit's  length  in  measure  due ; 
The  shaft  and  limbs  were  rods  of  yew. 
Whose  parents  in  Inch-Cailliach  wave ' 
Their  shadows  o'er  Clan-Alpine's  grave, 

1  hicJi-CailliacJi,  the  Isle  of  Nuns,  or  of  Old  Women,  is  a  most 
beautiful  island  at  tiie  lower  extremity  of  Loch  Lomond.  The 
church  belonging  to  the  former  nunnery  was  long  used  as  the  place 
of  worship  for  the  parish  of  Buchanan,  but  scarce  any  vestiges  of  it 
now  remain.  The  burial-ground  continues  to  be  used,  and  contains 
the  family  places  of  sepulture  of  several  neighboring  clans.  The 
moninnents  of  the  lairds  of  Macgregor,  and  of  other  families,  claim- 
ing a  descent  from  the  old  Scottish  King  Alpine,  arc  most  remark- 
able.    The  Highlanders  are  as  zealous  of  their  rights  of  sepulture 


1 1 6  THE    LADY  OF   1  HE  LA  KE.        L<^ -^  ^i , .  1 1 1 


i^\(\.  aiiswciiiiL;  Lomoiul's  l)icczcs  deep, 
Soothe  nuiny  ii  chieitaiu's  endless  sleep. 
The  Cross,  thus  form'd,  he  held  on  high, 
With  wasteil  hand,  and  haggard  eye, 
And  strange  and  mingled  feelings  woke, 
While  his  anathema  he  spoke. 


IX. 

"  Woe  to  the  clan.sman,  who  shall  view 
This  symbol  of  sepulchral  yew. 
Forgetful  that  its  branches  grew 
Where  weep  the  heavens  their  holiest  dew 

On  Alpine's  dwelling  low  ! 
Deserter  of  his  Chieftain's  trust. 
He  ne'er  shall  mingle  with  their  dust, 
15ut,  from  his  sires  and  kin(h-ed  thrust, 
Each  clansman's  c.\ecratii>n  just ' 

Shall  doom  him  wrath  and  woe." 
lie  paused; — the  word  the  vassals  took, 
With  forward  stc])  and  liery  look. 
On  high  their  naked  brands  they  shook, 

IS  mav  be  expected  froin  a  people  whose  wliole  laws  and  j,'ovei-inient. 
if  clanship  can  be  called  so.  turned  upon  the  sin.i,'le  princijile  of 
family  descent.  "May  his  ashes  be  scattered  on  the  water."  was 
one  of  the  decpct  and  most  solemn  imprecations  wiiich  Ihcy  used 
a;^."\inst  an  enemy.  See  a  detailed  description  of  the  funeral  cere- 
monies of  a  Ui^iiland  chieftain  in  the  Fair  Maid  of  I'.rlh.  Warcrly 
Sovvis,  vol.  43,  chaps,  x.  and  xi.      Xc-v  Edit. 

'  MS. :  "  Our  warriors,  on  his  worthless  bust, 
Shall  sjKjik  disi^race  and  woe." 


CANTO  III.]         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  IT; 

Their  clattering  targets  wildly  strook;' 

And  first  in  murmur  low, 
Then,  like  the  billow  in  his  course. 
That  far  to  seaward  finds  his  source. 
And  flings  to  shore  his  musterd  force. 
Burst,  with  loud  roar,  their  answer  hoarse, 

"  Woe  to  the  traitor,  woe !  " 
Ben-an's  gray  scalp  the  accents  knew, 
The  joyous  wolf  from  covert  drew, 
The  exulting  eagle  scream'd  afar, — 
They  knew  the  voice  of  Alpine's  war. 

X. 

The  shout  was  hush'd  on  lake  and  fell. 
The  monk  resumed  his  mutter'd  spell : 
Dismal  and  low  its  accents  came. 
The  while  he  scathed  the  Cross  with  flame ; 
And  the  few  words  that  reach'd  the  air. 
Although  the  holiest  name  was  there,^ 
Had  more  of  blasphemy  than  prayer. 
But  when  he  shook  above  the  crowd 
Its  kindled  points,  he  spoke  aloud  :  — 
''  Woe  to  the  wretch  who  fails  to  rear 
At  this  dread  sign  the  ready  spear ! 
For,  as  the  flames  this  symbol  sear, 
His  home,  the  refuge  of  his  fear, 
A  kindred  fate  shall  know ; 

'  MS.  :   "  Their  clattering  targets  hardly  strook : 

And  first  tJiey  mutter'd  loxv." 
2  MS.  :  "  Although  the  holy  name  was  there." 


Il8  rilE  LADY  OF  THE   LAKE.         [Canto  HI 


Far  o'er  its  roof  the  volumed  flame 
Clan-Alpine's  venijcance  shall  proclaim, 
While  maids  and  matrons  on  his  name 
Shall  call  down  wretchedness  and  shame, 

And  infamy  and  woe." 
Then  rose  the  cry  of  females,  shrill 
As  goss-hawk's  whistle  on  the  hill, 
Denouncing  misery  and  ill, 
Mingled  with  childhood's  babbling  trill 

Of  curses  stammer'd  slow  ; 
Answering,  with  imprecation  dread, 
"  Sunk  be  his  home  in  embers  red ! 
And  cursed  be  the  meanest  shed 
That  e'er  shall  hide  the  houseless  head. 
We  doom  to  want  and  woe !" 
A  sharp  and  shrieking  echo  gave, 
Coir-Uriskin,  thy  goblin  cave! 
And  the  gray  pass  where  birches  wave, 

On  Beala-nam-bo. 

XI. 

Then  deeper  paused  the  priest  anew, 
And  hard  his  laboring  breath  he  drew. 
While,  with  set  teeth  and  clenched  hand, 
And  eyes  that  glow'd  like  fiery  brand, 
He  meditated  curse  more  dread. 
And  doafllier,  on  the  clansmnn's  head, 
Who,  summon'd  to  his  C'hirftain's  aid, 
The  signal  saw  and  disobey 'd. 


Canto  III.]         THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  1 19 

The  crosslet's  points  of  sparkling  wood, 
He  quench'd  among  the  bubbling  blood, 
And,  as  again  the  sign  he  rear'd. 
Hollow  and  hoarse  his  voice  was  heard  : 
"  When  flits  this  Cross  from  man  to  man, 
Vich-Alpine's  summons  to  his  clan, 
Burst  be  the  ear  that  fails  to  heed ! 
Palsied  the  foot  that  shuns  to  speed ! 
May  ravens  tear  the  careless  eyes, 
Wolves  make  the  coward  heart  their  prize ! 
As  sinks  that  blood-stream  in  the  earth. 
So  may  his  heart's-blood  drench  his  hearth! 
As  dies  in  hissing  gore  the  spark, 
Quench  thou  his  light,  Destruction  dark ! 
And  be  the  grace  to  him  denied, 
Bought  by  this  sign  to  all  beside!" 
He  ceased  ;  no  echo  gave  agen 
The  murmur  of  the  deep  Amen.' 


XII. 

Then  Roderick,  with  impatient  look, 
From  Brian's  hand  the  symbol  took ; 
"  Speed,  Malise,  speed ! "  he  said,  and  gave 
The  crosslet  to  his  henchman  brave. 
*^'The  muster-place  be  Lanrick  mead  —  ^ 
Instant  the  time  —  speed,  Malise,  speed!" 

1  MS.  :  "The  slo-vly  muttcr'd  de^iV)  Amen." 
^  MS.  :  "  Murlagan  is  the  spot  decreed." 


I20  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.         [Canto  in. 


Like  heath-bird,  when  the  hawks  pursue, 
A  barge  across  Loch  Katrine  flew  ; 
High  stood  the  henchman  on  the  prow; 
So  rapidly  the  barge-men  row. 
The  bubbles,  where  they  launch'd  the  boat, 
Were  all  unbroken  and  afloat. 
Dancing  in  foam  and  ripple  still. 
When  it  had  near'd  the  mainland  hill  ; 
And  from  the  silver  beach's  side 
Still  was  the  prow  three  fathom  wide, 
When  lightly  bounded  to  the  land 
This  messenger  of  blood  and  brand.' 

XIII. 

Speed,  Malise,.  speed  !  the  dun  deer's  hitlc 
On  fleeter  foot  was  never  tied. 
Speed,  Malise,  speed  !  such  cause  of  haste 
Thine  active  sinews  never  braced. 

'  The  present  broifiie  of  tlic  I  Highlanders  is  made  of  half-dried 
leather,  with  holes  to  admit  and  let  out  the  water;  for  walkint(  the 
moors  dry-shod  is  a  matter  altogether  out  of  question.  The  ancient 
buskin  was  still  ruder,  beint^  made  of  undressed  deer's  hide,  with  the 
hair  outwards  :  a  circumstance  which  jirocured  the  Iliijhlanders  the 
well-known  epithet  of  Ji'ttl-s/zaiiAs.  The  process  is  very  accurately 
described  by  one  Elder  (himself  a  Ilii^hlander)  in  the  project  for  a 
union  between  England  and  Scotland,  addressed  to  Henry  VIII. 
"  We  go  a-lumting,  and  after  that  ^ye  have  slain  red-deer,  we  flay  off 
the  skin  by-and-bv,  and  scttingof  our  bare-foot  on  the  inside  thereof, 
for  want  of  cunning  shoemakers,  by  yoin-  grace's  pardon,  we  plav 
the  cobblers,  compassing  and  mea'-uring  so  much  thereof  as  shall 
re.ach  up  to  our  ankles,  pricking  the  upper  part  thereof  with  holes, 
that  the  water  may  repass  where  it  enters,  and  stretching  it  up  with 
a  btrong  thong  of  the  same  above  our  said  anklcb.     So,  and  please 


Canto  III.]         THE  LAD  V  OF  THE  LAKE.  1 2 1 

Bend  'gainst  the  steepy  hill  thy  breast, 
Burst  down  like  torrent  from  its  crest ; 
With  short  and  springing  footstep  pass 
The  trembling  bog  and  false  morass ; 
Across  the  brook  like  roebuck  bound, 
And  thread  the  brake  like  questing  hound ; 
The  crag  is  high,  the  scaur  is  deep, 
Yet  shrink  not  from  the  desperate  leap  : 
Parch'd  are  thy  burning  lips  and  brow, 
Yet  by  the  fountain  pause  not  now  ; 
Herald  of  battle,  fate,  and  fear,i 
Stretch  onward  in  thy  fleet  career  ! 
The  wounded  hind  thou  track' st  not  now, 
Pursuest  not  maid  through  greenwood  bough, 
Nor  pliest  thou  now  thy  flying  pace, 
With  rivals  in  the  mountain  race  ; 
But  danger,  death,  and  warrior  deed, 
Are  in  thy  course — speed,  Malise,  speed  ! 


XIV. 

Fast  as  the  fatal  symbol  flies, 

In  arms  the  huts  and  hamlets  rise  ; 


your  noble  grace,  we  make  our  shoes.  Therefore,  we  using  such 
manner  of  shoes,  the  rough  hairy  side  outwards,  in  your  grace's 
dominions  of  England,  we  be  called  Roughfooted  Scots."  —  Pinker- 
Ton's  History,  vol.  ii.,  p,  397. 

1  MS.  :  "  Dread  messenger  of  fate  and  fear,    \ 
Herald  of  danger,  fate  and  fear,      ^ 
Stretch  onward  in  thy  fleet  career ! 
Thou  track'st  not  now  the  strtcken  doe, 
Nor  maiden  coy  through  greenwood  bough." 


122  THE   LADY   OF    Till-:   I.AKF.  [Canto  III. 


From  wiiKliny;  i;lcn,  from  upland  blown, 
They  pour'd  each  hardy  tenant  down. 
Nor  slack'd  the  messenger  his  pace  ; 
He  show'd  the  sign,  he  named  the  jjlace, 
And,  pressing  forward  like  the  wind, 
Left  clamor  and  surprise  behind.' 
The  fisherman  forsook  the  strand, 
The  swarthy  smith  took  dirk  antl  brand ; 
With  changed  cheer,  the  mower  blithe 
Left  in  the  half-cut  swathe  the  scythe  ; 
The  herds  withcnit  a  keeper  stray'd. 
The  plough  w\is  in  mid-furrow  stayed, 
The  falc'ner  toss'd  his  hawk  away. 
The  hunter  left  the  stag  at  bay  ; 
Prompt  at  the  signal  of  alarms, 
Each  son  of  Alpine  rush'd  to  arms  ; 
So  swept  the  tumult  and  affray 
Along  the  margin  of  Achray. 
Ala.s,  thou  lovely  lake  !  that  e'er 
Thy  banks  should  echo  sounds  of  fear! 
The  rocks,  the  bosky  thickets,  sleep 
So  stilly  on  thy  bosom  deep, 
The  lark's  blithe  carol,  from  the  cloud, 
Seems  for  the  scene  too  gayly  loud.^ 

'  ••  The  description  of  the  startinc:  of  the  '  fiery  cross  '  hears  more 
marks  of  labor  than  most  of  Mr.  Scott's  poetrv,  and  horders,  per- 
haps, upon  strainintj  and  exaiji^eration  ;  yet  it  sliows  great  power."  — 

Jr.KI-RF.V. 

2  MS.  :   "  beems  all  too  lively  and  too  loud." 


Canto  III.]        THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  1 23 

XV. 
Speed,  Malise,  speed  !  the  lake  is  past, 
Duncraggan's  huts  appear  at  last. 
And  peep,  like  moss-grown  rocks,  half  seen, 
Half  hidden  in  the  copse  so  green  ; 
There  mayest  thou  rest,  thy  labor  done, 
Their  Lord  shall  speed  the  signal  on.  — 
As  stoops  the  hawk  upon  his  prey, 
The  henchman  shot  him  down  the  way 
—  What  woeful  accents  load  the  gale? 
The  funeral  yell,  the  female  wail ! ' 
A  gallant  hunter's  sport  is  o'er, 
A  valiant  warrior  lights  no  more. 
Who,  in  the  battle  or  the  chase. 
At  Roderick's  side  shall  fill  his  place!  — 
Within  the  hall,  where  torches'  ray 
Supplies  the  excluded  beams  of  day. 
Lies  Duncan  on  his  lowly  bier. 
And  o'er  him  streams  his  widow's  tear. 
His  stripling  son  stands  mournful  by. 
His  youngest  weeps,  but  knows  not  why ! 
The  village  maids  and  matrons  round 
The  dismal  coronach  resound.^ 

MS. :  " 'Tis  woman's  scream,  'tis  childhood's  wail." 
'^  The  Coronach  of  the  Highlanders,  like  the  (Jlalatus  of  the 
Romans  and  the  UltiJoo  of  the  Irish,  was  a  wild  expression  of  lamen- 
tation, poured  forth  by  the  mourners  over  the  body  of  a  departed 
friend.  When  the  words  of  it  were  articulate,  thej  expressed  the 
praises  of  the  deceased,  and  the  loss  the  clan  would  sustain  by  his 
death.     The  following  is  a  lamentation  of  this  kind,  literally  trans* 


IHL   LADV   OF    riU:   LAKE.         [Canto  TIL 


XVI. 

CORONACH. 

He  is  gone  on  the  mountain, 

lie  is  lost  to  the  forest. 
Like  a  summer-tlried  fountain, 

\\'hen  our  need  was  the  sorest. 
The  font,  reappearing, 

From  the  rain-ch-ops  shall  borrow, 

latccl  from  the  Gaelic,  to  some  of  the  ideas  of  wliich  the  text  stands 
iiuieblcd.  Tiie  time  is  so  popiUar  that  it  lias  since  become  tiie  war- 
march,  or  Gatliering  of  the  clan. 

Coronach  on  Sir  Laiiflilun,   Chirf  of  Muclcan. 

"  Which  of  all  the  Scnachics 
Can  trace  tliy  line  from  the  root  up  to  Paradise, 
But  Macvuirih,  the  son  of  Ferj^^us? 
No  sooner  hail  lliine  ancient  stiilely  tree 
Taken  firm  root  in  AII)ion, 
Tlian  one  of  thy  forefathers  fell  at  IFariaw. 
'Twas  then  we  lost  a  cliief  of  de;ithlebs  name. 

♦*  Tis  no  base  weed  —  no  planted  tree, 
Nor  a  seedlinj,'  ol  la.st  Autumn  ; 
Nor  a  saplinjf  planted  at  Heltain  ;  • 
Wide,  wide  around  were  spread  its  lofty  branches 
Hut  the  topmost  lioujjh  is  lowly  laid! 
Thou  hast  forsaken  u»  before  Saw  iine.f 

"  Thy  dwelling'  is  the  winter  house;  — 

I-oud,  sad,  sad,  and  mighty  is  thy  death-SnnRl 
Oh!  courteous  champion  of  Montrose! 
Oh!  stately  warri<ir  of  the  Celtic  Isles! 
Thou  shall  buckle  thy  harness  on  no  more!  " 

The  coronach  has  for  some  vcars  past  been  superseded  at  funerals 
bv  tlie  use  of  the  ba^Tipc:  mul  (liat  also  i-^.  like  many  other  High- 
land peculiarities,  failing  into  distjse  unless  in  remot.-  distri<  ts. 
•  Dell's  lire,  or  Whitsunday.  \    Hallowe'en. 


Canto  in.]         THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE  iZ^ 

But  to  us  comes  no  cheering, 

To  Duncan  no  morrow ! 
The  hand  of  the  reaper 

Takes  the  ears  that  are  hoary, 
But  the  voice  of  the  weeper 

Wails  manhood  in  glory. 
The  autumn  winds  rushing 

Waft  the  leaves  that  are  searest, 
But  our  flower  was  in  flushing. 

When  blighting  was  nearest. 

Fleet  foot  on  the  correi,' 

Sage  counsel  in  cumber, 
Red  hand  in  the  foray, 

How  sound  is  thy  slumber ! 
Like  the  dew  on  the  mountain, 

Like  the  foam  on  the  river, 
Like  the  bubble  on  the  fountain. 

Thou  art  gone,  and  for  ever !  ^ 


*  Or  corri.  The  hollow  side  of  the  hill,  where  game  usually  lies, 
2  "  Mr.  Scott  is  such  a  master  of  versification  that  the  most  com- 
plicated metre  does  not  for  an  instant  arrest  the  progress  of  his 
imagination ;  its  difficulties  usually  operate  as  a  salutary  excitement 
to  his  attention,  and  not  unfrequently  suggest  to  him  new  and  un- 
pected  graces  of  expression.  If  a  careless  rhyme  or  an  ill-constructed 
phrase  occasionally  escape  him  amidst  the  irregular  torrent  of  his 
stanza,  the  blemish  is  often  imperceptible  by  the  hurried  eye  of  the 
reader;  but  when  the  short  lines  are  yoked  in  pairs,  any  dissonance 
in  the  jingle,  or  interruption  of  the  construction,  cannot  fail  to  give 
offence.  We  learn  from  Horace,  that  in  the  course  of  a  long  work, 
a  poet  may  legitiiuatelv  indulge  in  a  momentary  slumber;  but  we 
do  not  wish  to  hear  him  snore-" —  Quarterly  Review. 


126  THE    LAi)\     OF   THE  LAKE.         [CANm  Hi. 


XVII. 

Sec  Stumah,"  who,  the  bier  beside, 

Ili.s  master's  corpse  with  wonder  eyed, 

Poor  Stumah  !  whom  his  least  halloo 

Could  send  like  lii;htnin^"  o'er  the  dew, 

Bristles  his  crest,  and  })t)ints  his  cars, 

As  if  some  stranger  step  he  hears. 

'Tis  not  a  mourner's  muflled  tread. 

Who  comes  to  sorrow  o'er  the  dead, 

But  headlong  haste,  or  deadly  fear, 

Urge  the  precipitate  career. 

All  stand  aghast :  —  unheeding  all. 

The  henchman  bursts  into  the  hall  ; 

Before  the  dead  man's  bier  he  stood  ; 

Held  forth  the  Cross  besmear'd  with  blood: 

"  The  muster-place  is  Lanrick  mead  ; 

Sjieed  ft)rth  the  signal!  clansmen,  speed!'* 


XVIII. 

Angus,  the  heir  of  Duncan's  line,* 
Sprung  forth  and  seized  the  fatal  sign. 

^  Failhfiil.     Tlio  name  of  a  <inij. 

^  MS.:  "  An;^us.  the //;-.</ of  Duncan's  line, 

SprunL,'  forth  and  sei/cti  the  fatal  sitjn 
Ami  //nil  iif>nii  /lis  k in f mail's  birr 
Vfli  A/ii/isr's  sns/>riif/rif  /rar. 
In  ha^tc  the  Ktrip'inij  to  his  side 
His  fallier's  tait,'c  and  falchion  tied.' 


Canto  lll.l  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  12'] 


In  haste  the  stripling"  to  his  side 

His  father's  dirk  and  broadsword  tied  ; 

But  when  he  saw  his  mother's  eye 

Watch  him  in  speechless  agony, 

Back  to  her  open'd  arms  he  flew, 

Press'd  on  her  lips  a  fond  adieu  — 

"  Alas  !  "  she  sobb'd,  —  "  and  yet,  be  gonCj 

And  speed  thee  forth,  like  Duncan's  son !" 

One  look  he  cast  upon  the  bier, 

Dash'd  from  his  eye  the  gathering  tear. 

Breathed  deep  to  clear  his  laboring  breast, 

And  toss'd  aloft  his  bonnet  crest. 

Then,  like  the  high-bred  colt,  whei-i,  freed, 

First  he  essays  his  fire  and  speed. 

He  vanish'd,  and  o'er  moor  and  moss 

Sped  forward  with  the  Fiery  Cross. 

Suspended  was  the  widow's  tear, 

While  yet  his  footsteps  she  could  hear ; 

And  when  she  mark'd  the  henchman's  eye 

Wet  with  unwonted  sympathy, 

"  Kinsman,"  she  said,  "  his  race  is  run, 

That  should  have  sped  thine  errand  on  ; 

The  oak  has  fall'n  —  the  sapling  bough 

Is  all  Duncraggan's  shelter  now. 

Yet  trust  I  well,  his  duty  done. 

The  orphan's  God  will  guard  my  son  — 

And  you,  in  many  a  danger  true, 

At  Duncan's  hest  your  blades  that  drew. 


[28  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.      [Canto  hi. 


To  anus,  and  ^uartl  that  orplian's  licail! 
Let  babes  and  women  wail  the  dead." 
Then  weapon-clang,  and  martial  call, 
Resounded  throu,i,di  the  funeral  hall, 
While  from  the  walls  the  attendant  band 
Snatcli'd  sword  and  targe,  with  hurried  hand, 
And  short  and  flitting  energy- 
Glanced  from  the  mourner's  sunken  eye. 
As  if  the  sounds  to  warrior  dear 
Might  rouse  her  Duncan  from  his  bier. 
But  faded  soon  that  borrow'd  foice; 
Grief  claim'd  his  right,  and  tears  their  course. 


XIX. 

]-}enlodi  saw  the  Cross  of  Fire, 
It  glanced  like  lightning  up  Stralh-Irr.' 
O'er  dale  antl  hill  the  summons  flew, 
Nor  rest  nor  pause  young  Angus  knew  ; 

1  Inspection  of  the  ])rovincial  map  of  rerthshin;,  or  any  large  map 
of  .Scotland,  will  trace  the  progress  of  the  .signal  thrmi;;h  the  .small  dis- 
tricts of  lakes  and  mountains,  which,  in  e.xercise  of  my  ])octical  j)rivilcge, 
I  have  subjected  to  the  authority  of  ?ny  imaginary  chieftain,  and  which, 
at  the  period  of  my  romance,  was  really  occupied  hy  a  clan  who  claimed 
a  descent  from  Alpine,  a  clan  the  most  tinfortunate,  and  most  pcrsecnleil, 
liut  neither  the  least  distinguished,  least  powerful,  nor  least  brave,  of  the 
tribes  of  the  (Jael. 

"  Slificli  noil  riti;;liritll)  clticli.-iis.icli 
r.lia-shiiis  ,Tn  I  )uii-Stai<ibliini»li 
Aig  an  rouhh  cnin  iia  H.-ilbn  otiiiis 
'Slag  a  chcil  diiclias  fast  ris." 

The  first  stage  of  the  Tie  ry  Cross  is  to  1  )un(  r.-iggan,  a  place  near 
the  llrigg  of  Turk,  where  a  short  stream  divides  Loch  Anhr.iy  from 
I.och    \'ennachar.       l-rMm     thence,    it    passes    towards    Callender.    and 


Canto  III.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  120 


The  tear  that  gathered  in  his  eye 

He  left  the  mountain  breeze  to  dry ; 

Until,  where  Teith's  young  waters  roll,    . 

Betwixt  him  and  a  wooded  knoll,' 

That  graced  the  sable  strath  with  green, 

The  chapel  of  St.  Bride  was  seen. 

Swoln  was  the  stream,  remote  the  bridge, 

But  Angus  paused  not  on  the  edge ; 

Though  the  dark  waves  danced  dizzily, 

Though  reel'd  his  sympathetic  eye, 

He  dash'd  amid  the  torrent's  roar : 

His  right  hand  high  the  crosslet  bore, 

His  left  the  pole-axe  grasp'd,  to  guide 

And  stay  his  footing  in  the  tide. 

He  stumbled  twice  —  the  foam  splash'd  high, 

With  hoarser  swell  the  stream  raced  by ; 

And  had  he  fall'n, — forever  there. 

Farewell  Duncraggan's  orphan  heir! 

But  still,  as  if  in  parting  life, 

Firmer  he  grasp'd  the  Cross  of  strife, 

Until  the  opposing  bank  he  gain'd. 

And  up  the  chapel  pathway  strain'd. 

then,  turning  to  the  left  up  the  pass  of  Leny,  is  consigned  to  Norman 
at  the  chapel  of  Saint  Bride,  which  stood  on  a  small  and  romantic 
knoll,  in  the  middle  of  the  valley,  called  Strath-Ire.  Tombea  and 
Arnandave,  or  Ardmandave,  are  names  of  places  in  the  vicinity.  The 
alarm  is  then  supposed  to  pass  along  the  lake  of  Lubnaig,  and 
through  the  various  glens  in  the  district  of  Balquidder,  including 
the  neighboring  tracts  of  Glenfinlas  and  Strathgartney. 
^  MS.  :  "  Afid  -where  a  steef  and  wooded  knoll 

Graced  the  dark  strath  with  c///c raid  green." 


I30  THE   LADY   OF   THE  LAKE.         [Canto  III. 

XX. 

A  lilitlicsomc  rout,  that  morning;  tide, 
J  lad  soiij^ht  the  chapel  of  St.  Bride. 
Her  troth  Toml^ca's  Mary  g;avc 
To  Norman,  heir  of  Armandavc, 
And,  issuing  froni  the  Gothic  arch, 
Tb.e  bridal  now  resumed  their  march. 
In  rude,  l)ut  glad  procession,  came 
Jionneted  sire  and  coif-clad  dame ; 
And  plaided  youth,  with  jest  and  jeer, 
Which  snooded  maiden  would  not  hear; 
And  children,  that,  unwitting  why. 
Lent  the  gay  shout  their  shrilly  cry  ; 
And  minstrels,  that  in  measures  \ied 
liefore  the  young  and  bonny  bride, 
Whose  downcast  eye  and  cheek  disclose 
The  tear  and  blush  of  morning  rose. 
With  virgin  step,  and  bashful  hand, 
She  held  the  'kerchief's  snowy  band  ; 
The  gallant  bridegroom  by  her  side, 
15ehel(l  his  pri/x  with  victor's  jiride. 
And  the  glad  mother  in  lu'r  ear 
Was  closely  whispering  words  of  cheer. 

XXI. 

W'ho  meets  them  at  the  churchyard  gate } 
The  messenger  of  fear  and  fate  ! 


Canto  III.]         THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  131 

Haste  ill  his  hurried  accent  lies, 

And  grief  is  swimming  in  his  eyes. 

All  dripping  from  the  recent  flood, 

Panting  and  travel-soil'd  he  stood, 

The  fatal  sign  of  fire  and  sword 

Held  forth,  and  spoke  the  appointed  word : 

"The  muster-place  is  Lanrick  mead; 

Speed  forth  the  signal !   Norman,  speed!" 

And  must  he  change  so  soon  the  hand,' 

Just  link'd  to  his  by  holy  band. 

For  the  fell  Cross  of  blood  and  brand .? 

And  must  the  day,  so  blithe  that  rose. 

And  promised  rapture  in  the  close. 

Before  its  setting  hour,  divide 

The  bridegroom  from  the  plighted  bride  ? 

0  fatal  doom  !  —  it  must !  it  must ! 
Clan-Alpine's  cause,  her  Chieftain's  trusty 
Her  summons  dread,  brook  no  delay ; 
Stretch  to  the  race  —  away!  away! 

XXII. 

Yet  slow  he  laid  his  plaid  aside, 
And,  lingering,  eyed  his  lovely  bride, 
Until  he  saw  the  starting  tear 
Speak  woe  he  might  not  stop  to  cheer; 
Then,  trusting  not  a  second  look. 
In  haste  he  sped  him  up  the  brook, 

1  MS.  :  "And  must  he  then  exchange  the  hand.'" 


IS2  THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.         [Canto  III. 


Nor  backward  s^lanccd,  till  on  the  heath 
Where  Lubnaig's  lake  supjjlies  the  Teith. 
—  What  in  the  racer's  bosom  stirr'd  ? 
The  sickening  pang  of  hope  dcfcrr'il, 
And  memory,  with  a  torturing  train,' 
Of  all  his  morning  visions  vain. 
Mingled  with  love's  impatience,  came 
The  manly  thirst  for  martial  fame  ; 
The  stormy  joy  of  mountaineers, 
l'2re  yet  they  rush  upon  the  spears ; 
And  zeal  for  Clan  and  Chieftain  burning, 
And  hope,  from  well-fought  field  returning, 
With  war's  red  honors  on  his  crest, 
To  clasp  his  Mary  to  his  breast. 
Stung  by  such  thoughts,  o'er  bank  and  brae, 
Like  fire  from  flint  he  glanced  away. 
While  high  resolve,  and  feeling  strong, 
]5urst  into  voluntary  song, 

XXIII. 

SONG. 

The  heath  this  night  must  be  my  bed, 
The  bracken^  curtain  for  my  head. 
My  lullaby  the  warder's  tread. 

Far,  far,  from  love  anil  thee,  Mary: 

'   MS. :  "  And  incnuirv  bmnf^hl  tin-  torturini;  train 
Of  all  his  morninij  visions  vain  ; 
But  niiiiLjIcd  witii  impatience  came 
The  manly  love  of  martial  fame." 

'  Bracken.  —  Fern. 


Canto  III.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  133 

To-morrow  cvc,  ni'^rc  stilly  hiid. 
My  couch  may  be  my  bloody  ]:)lai(l, 
My  vesper  song,  thy  wail,  sweet  maid ! 

It  will  not  waken  me,  Mary ! 
I  may  not,  dare  not,  fancy  now  ' 
The  grief  that  clouds  thy  lovely  brow, 
I  dare  not  think  upon  thy  vow, 

And  all  it  promised  me,  Mary. 
No  fond  regret  must  Norman  know ; 
When  bursts  Clan-Alpine  on  the  foe. 
His  heart  mu^t  be  like  bended  bow. 

His  foot  Hke  arrow  free,  Mary. 

A  time  will  come  with  feeling  fraught, 
For,  if  I  fall  in  battle  fought, 
Thy  hapless  lover's  dying  thought 

Shall  be  a  thought  on  thee,  Mary,^ 
And  if  return'd  from  conquer'd  foes. 
How  blithely  will  the  evening  close, 
How  sweet  the  linnet  sing  repose. 

To  my  young  bride  and  me,  Mary ! 

1  MS.  :  "  T  muy  not,  dar;.'  not,  image  now." 

2  MS. :  "  A  time  will  come  for  love  and  faith, 

For  should  thy  bridegroom  yield  his  breath, 
'Twill  cheer  him  in  the  hour  of  death, 
The  boasted  right  to  thee,  Marv." 


134  ^'^/>^'   LADY   OF    nil'.    /..Ik'/-:.  [Canto  III 


XXIV. 

Not  faster  o'er  thy  heathery  braes, 
Balquidder,  speeds  the  midnij^ht  blaze,' 
RushiiiL;",  in  conilaj^ration  strong, 
'Ihy  deep  ravines  and  dells  along, 
Wrapping  thy  cliffs  in  purple  glow. 
And  reddening  the  dark  lakes  below  ; 
Nor  faster  speeds  it,  nor  so  far, 
As  o'er  thy  heaths  the  voice  of  war.-* 
The  signal  roused  to  martial  coil 
The  sullen  margin  of  Loch  Voil, 
Waked  still  Loch  Doinc,  and  to  the  source 
Alarm'd,  Balvaig,  thy  swamj^y  course  ; 
Then  southward  turn'd  its  rapirl  road 
Adown  Strath-Gartney's  valley  broad, 
Till  rose  in  arms  eacii  man  might  claim 
A  i)ortion  in  Clan-Alpine's  name, 
From  the  gray  sire,  whose  trembling  hand 
Could  hardly  buckle  on  his  brand, 
To  the  raw  boy,  whose  shaft  and  bow 
Were  yet  scarce  terror  to  the  crow. 

'  It  mav  be  iicccssarv  tn  inforin  tlic  soullurn  rc.ulcr  tiiat  l.Iie 
heath  oil  the  Scoltisli  moorlaiul^i  is  often  set  (ire  to.  that  (lie  sliecp 
mav  liave  the  acivantajjo  of  the  you ni;  herhai^e  pnuhieecl,  m  room  of 
the  toii'^h  old  heather  plants.  This  custom  (exeeraleil  hy  sportsmen) 
produces  occasionally  the  most  beautiful  nocturnal  ai)pcarances, 
f.rmilar  alm&st  to  the  dischartjc  of  a  volcano.  This  simile  is  not 
new  to  jioctry.  Tin*  ihari,'e  of  a  warrior,  in  the  fine  ballad  of 
Ilaiilyknute,  is  said  to  be  "  like  fire  to  heather  set." 

'^  "The  eager  fidelity  with  which  thi^  fatal  sirrnal  is  hurried  on 
and  obeyed  is  represented  with  great  spirit  and  felicity." — Jki  ikky. 


Canto  III.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  135 

Each  valley,  each  seqiiester'd  glen, 

Muster'd  its  little  horde  of  men. 

That  met  as  torrents  from  the  heiirht 

In  Highland  dales  their  streams  unite, 

Still  gathering,  as  they  pour  along, 

A  voice  more  loud,  a  tide  more  strong, 

Till  at  the  rendezvous  they  stood 

By  hundreds  prompt  for  blows  and  blood ; 

Each  train'd  to  arms  since  life  began. 

Owning  no  tie  but  to  his  clan, 

No  oath,  but  by  his  chieftain's  hand. 

No  law,  but  Roderick  Dhu's  command.' 

XXV. 

That  summer  morn  had  Roderick  Dhu 
Survey'd  the  skirts  of  Benvenue, 
And  sent  his  scouts  o'er  hill  and  heath, 
To  view  the  frontiers  of  Menteith. 

1  The  deep  and  implicit  respect  paid  by  the  Highland  clansmen 
to  their  chief,  rendered  this  both  a  common  and  a  solemn  oath.  In 
other  respects  they  were  like  most  savage  nations,  capricious  in  their 
ideas  concerning  the  obligatory  power  of  oaths.  One  solemn  mode 
of  swearing  was  by  kissing  the  dirk,  imprecating  upon  themselves 
death  by  that,  or  a  similar  weapon,  if  they  broke  their  vow.  But  for 
oaths  in  the  usual  form  they  are  said  to  have  paid  little  respect.  As 
for  the  reverence  due  to  the  chief,  it  may  be  guessed  from  the  follow- 
ing odd  example  of  a  Highland  point  of  honor  :  — 

"The  clan  whereto  the  above-mentioned  tribe  belongs  is  the 
onl}'  one  I  have  heard  of  which  is  without  a  chief:  that  is,  being 
divided  into  f;\milies,  under  several  chieftains,  without  any  particular 
patriarch  of  the  whole  name.  And  this  is  a  great  reproach,  as  may 
appear  froiri  an  afiair  that  fell  out  at  my  table,  in  the  Highlands, 
between  one  of  that  name  and  a  Cameron.     The  provocation  given 


136  Zy/A'   LADY  OF    THE   LAKE.         [Canto  111. 

And  backward  came  with  news  ol  liucc  ; 
Still  lay  each  martial  (jraome  and  Bruce, 
In  Rednoch  courts  no  horsemen  wait, 
No  banner  waved  on  Cardross  gate, 
On  Duchray's  towers  no  beacon  shone. 
Nor  scared  the  herons  from  Loch  Con  ; 
All  seem'd  at  peace.  —  Now,  wot^ye  why 
The  Chieftain,  with  such  an.xious  eye, 
l'2re  to  the  muster  he  repair, 
This  western  frontier  scann'd  with  care  .''  — 
In  Henvcnuc's  most  darksome  cleft, 
A  fair,  though  cruel,  pledge  was  left  ; 
For  Douglas,  to  his  promise  true. 
That  morning  from  the  isle  withdrew, 
And  in  deep  scquestcr'd  dell 
Had  sought  a  low  and  lonely  cell, 
B)'  many  a  bard,  in  Celtic  tongue. 
Has  Coir-nan-Uriskin  been  sung:' 


bv  the  l.-itter  was  —  'Name  vour  cliicf.'  —  The  return  of  it  at  oiitc 
was,  —  'You  arc  a  fool.'  They  went  out  next  niornini,'.  hut  havirn; 
earlv  notice  of  it.  I  sent  a  small  party  of  soldiers  after  them,  which, 
in  all  probability.  i)reventeil  some  barbarous  mischief  that  mii'lit 
have  ensued ;  for  the  chietless  Ili<,'hiander,  who  is  himself  a  petty 
chieftain,  wns  1,'oini,'  tf>  the  jilace  appointed  with  a  small-sword  and 
a  pistol,  whereas  the  Cameron  (an  old  man)  took  witli  him  only  his 
broadsworil.  accordini^  to  the  agreement. 

"When  all  was  over,  and  I  had.  at  least  seemini,'ly.  reconciled 
them,  I  was  told  the  words,  of  which  I  seemed  to  think  but  sli;,'htly, 
were,  to  one  of  the  clan,  the  greatest  of  all  provocations." — Lrtfrrs 
from  Scotland,  vol.  ii.  p.  22\. 

'  This  is  a  very  steep  and  most  romantic  hollow  in  tiie  mountain 
of  Benvcnuc.  ovcrhani^intf  the  southeastern  extremity  of  Loch 
Katrine.     It  is  surrounded  with  stupendous  rocks,  and  overshadowcfl 


Canto  III.]  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  1 37 


A  softer  name  the  Saxons  gave, 
And  call'd  the  grot  the  Goblin-cave. 


XXVI. 

It  was  a  wild  and  strange  retreat, 
As  e'er  was  trod  by  outlaw's  feet. 
The  dell  upon  the  mountain  crest, 
Yawn'd  like  a  gash  on  warrior's  breast ; 
Its  trench  had  stay'd  full  many  a  rock, 
Hurl'd  by  primeval  earthquake  shock 
From  Benvenue's  gray  summit  wild ; 
And  here,  in  random  ruin  piled, 

with  birch-trees,  mingled  with  oaks,  the  spontaneous  production  of 
the  mountain,  even  where  its  clifts  appear  denuded  of  soil.  A  dale 
in  so  wild  a  situation,  and  amid  a  people  whose  genius  bordered  on 
the  romantic,  did  not  remain  witliout  appropriate  deities.  The  name 
literally  implies  the  Corri,  or  Den,  of  the  Wild  or  Shaggy  Men. 
Perhaps  this,  as  conjectured  by  Mr.  Alexander  Campbell,*  may  have 
originally  only  implied  its  being  the  haunt  of  a  ferocious  banditti. 
But  tradition  has  ascribed  to  the  Urisk,  who  gives  name  to  the 
cavern,  a  figure  between  a  goat  and  a  man ;  in  short,  however  much 
the  classical  reader  may  be  startled,  precisely  that  of  the  Grecian 
Satyr.  The  Urisk  seems  not  to  have  inherited,  with  the  form,  the 
petulance  of  the  sylvan  deity  of  the  classics  :  his  occupation,  on  the 
contrarv,  resembled  those  of  Milton's  Lubber  Fiend,  or  of  the  Scot' 
tish  Brownie,  though  he  differed  from  both  in  name  and  appearance. 
"  The  Urisks"  says  Dr.  Graham,  "  were  a  set  of  lubberly  supernatu- 
rals,  who,  like  the  Brownies,  could  be  gained  over,  by  kind  attention, 
to  perform  tlie  drudgery  of  the  farm,  and  it  was  believed  that  many 
of  the  families  in  the  Highlands  had  one  of  the  order  attached  to  it. 
They  were  supposed  to  be  dispersed  over  the  Highlands,  each  in  his 
own  wild  recess,  but  the  solemn  stated  meetings  of  the  order  were 
regularly  held  in  this  Cave  of  Benvenue.  This  current  superstition, 
no  doubt,  alludes  to  some  circumstance  in  the  ancient  history  of  this 
*  Journey  from  Edinburgh,  1S02,  p.  loS. 


1 3S  THE   LADY   O/'    THE   LAKE.         [Canto  ill. 


They'frown'd  incumbent  o'er  the  spot, 
And  form'd  the  ni-i;ed  sylvan  i;T()t.' 
The  oak  and  birch,  with  mingled  shade, 
At  noontide  there  a  twilight  made, 
Unless  when  short  and  sudden  shone 
Some  straggling  beam  on  cliff  or  stone, 
With  such  a  glimpse  as  prophet's  eye 
Gains  on  thy  depth.  Futurity. 
No  murmur  waked  the  solemn  still. 
Save  tinkling  of  a  fountain  rill  ; 
l^ut  when  the  wind  chafed  with  the  lake, 
A  sullen  sound  would  upward  break. 
With  dashing  hollow  voice  that  spoke 
Tlie  incessant  war  of  wave  and  rock. 

codiUrv."  —  Scenery  on  tlir  Soullicrn  Confines  of  l\rf/is/iin\  ]).  19, 
1S06.  It  must  be  owiKti  that  tlic  Coir,  or  Dl-ii,  docs  not,  in  its 
present  stale,  jneet  our  ideas  of  a  subterraneous  j^rotlo,  or  cave, 
being  only  a  small  and  narrow  cavity,  anion-;  luii^e  frav;ments  of 
rocks  rudely  piled  toi^ether.  Hut  such  a  scene  is  liable  to  convul- 
sions of  nature  whicii  a  Lowlamler  cannot  estimate,  and  which  may 
have  choked  up  what  was  oriiiinally  a  cavern.  At  least  the  name 
and  tradition  warrant  the  author  of  a  fictitious  tale,  to  assert  its 
bavin*;  been  such  at  the  remrite  period  in  which  this  scene  is  laid. 

1  '•  After  landing  on  the  skirts  of  lU-nvenue.  we  reach  the  rax-e  (or 
more  properly  the  cove)  of  the  i^oblins,  by  a  stct-p  and  narrow  defile 
of  a  few  hundred  yards  in  length.  It  is  a  deep,  circular  amphi- 
theatre of  at  least  six  hundred  yanls  of  extent  in  its  upper  iliameler, 
graduallv  narrowing  towards  tlie  base,  hemmed  in  all  round  by  steep 
and  towering  rocks,  and  rendered  impenetrable  to  the  rays  of  the 
sun  by  a  tlose  covert  of  luxuriant  trees.  On  the  south  and  west  it 
is  bounded  by  the  precipitous  shoulder  of  Henvenuc.  to  the  height 
of  at  least  five  hundred  feet;  towards  the  east,  the  rock  appears  at 
some  former  period  to  have  tumbled  down,  strewing  the  whole 
course  of  its  fall  with  immense  fragments,  which  now  serve  only  to 
give  shelter  to  foxes,  wild-cats,  and  badgers." —  Dr.  (JR  \ii  \m. 


Canto  III.]  THE  LADY'  OF   THE  LAKE.  139 


Suspended  cliffs,  with  hideous  sway, 
Seem'd  nodding  o'er  the  cavern  gray. 
From  such  a  den  the  wolf  had  sprung, 
In  such  the  wild-cat  leaves  her  young; 
Yet  Douglas  and  his  daughter  fair 
Sought  for  a  space  their  safety  there. 
Gray  Superstition's  whisper  dread 
Debarr'd  the  spot  to  vulgar  tread  ; 
For  there,  she  said,  did  fays  resort. 
And  satyrs '  hold  their  sylvan  court. 
By  moonlight  tread  their  mystic  maze, 
And  blast  the  rash  beholder's  gaze. 

XXVII. 

Now  eve  with  western  shadows  long, 
Floated  on  Katrine  bright  and  strong. 
When  Roderick,  with  a  chosen  few, 
Repass'd  the  heights  of  Benvenue. 
Above  the  Goblin-cave  they  go. 
Through  the  wild  pass  of  Beal-nam-bo  ;^ 
The  prompt  retainers  speed  before. 
To  launch  the  shallop  from  the  shore, 
For  'cross  Lock  Katrine  lies  his  way 
To  view  the  passes  of  Achray, 

1  The  Urish,  or  Highland  satyr.     See  a  previous  Note. 

-  Bealach-nam-ho,  or  the  pass  of  cattle,  is  a  most  magnificent 
glade,  overhung  with  aged  hircli-trees,  a  little  higher  up  the  moun- 
tain than  the  Coir-nan  Uriskin,  treated  of  in  a  former  Note.  The 
whole  composes  the  most  sublime  piece  of  scenery  that  imagination 
can  conceive. 


I40  THE   LADY  OF   7 HE   LAKE.         [Canto  IIL 


Antl  place  his  chmsiiicn  in  array. 

Yet  lags  the  chief  in  musing  mind, 

Unwonted  sight,  his  men  behind, 

A  single  page  to  bear  iiis  sword. 

Alone  attended  on  his  lord  ; ' 

The  rest  their  way  througli  thickets  break, 

And  soon  await  him  by  the  lake, 

It  was  a  fair  and  gallant  sight, 

To  view  them  from  the  neighboring  heigiit, 

'  A  Ili^lil.iiui  chief,  being  as  absolute  in  l>is  patriiinhal  aulbority 
as  anv  prince,  liad  a  correspomlinif  number  of  otilcers  altaclied  to 
liis  person,  lie  had  his  bodv-j^uards,  called  Lnkliltacli^  ]iicked  from 
his  clan  for  strength,  activity,  and  entire  devotion  to  his  person. 
These,  according  to  their  deserts,  were  sure  to  share  abundantly  in 
the  rude  profusion  of  his  hospitality.  It  is  recorded,  for  exain|ile, 
by  tradition,  that  Allan  MacLean,  diief  of  that  clan,  happened  ujion 
a  time  to  hear  one  of  these  favorite  retainers  observe  to  his  comrade, 
that  their  chief  grew  old.  "  Whence  do  you  infer  that?"  replied  the 
other.  -'.When  was  it,"  rejoined  the  first,  "that  a  soldier  of  Allan's 
was  obliged,  as  I  am  no.w,  not  only  to  eat  the  tlesh  from  the  bone, 
but  even  to  tear  oil"  the  inner  skin,  or  fdament.'"  The  hint  was 
quite  sulVicient,  and  MacLcan  next  morning,  to  relieve  his  folhnvers 
from  such  dire  necessity,  undertook  an  inroad  on  the  mainland,  the 
ravage  of  which  altogether  efVaced  tlie  memory  of  his  former  expe- 
ditions for  the  like  purpose. 

f)iir  ollicer  of  Kngineers,  so  often  quoted,  has  given  us  a  distinct 
list  of  the  domestic  olficcrs  who,  independent  of  Luitlittacli,  or 
frardis  lir  corf^s,  belonged  to  the  establishment  of  a  Highland 
Chief.  These  are,  i.  'J'/ir  /friic/iiiinn.  See  these  notes,  p.  uxi.  2. 
The  I?ard.  See  p.  60.  3.  lUatiivr.  or  spokesman.  4.  < •illit-morr, 
or  sword-bearer,  alluded  to  in  the  text.  5.  Gillii-rifi/litf.  who  car- 
ried the  chief,  if  on  foot,  over  the  fords.  6.  (iil/ir-CDinstraiiic,  who 
leads  the  chiefs  horse.  7.  (iiUic-Triis/iaiiariush,  the  baggage-man. 
8.  The  piper.  9.  The  piper's  gillie  or  attendant,  who  carries  the 
bagpipe.*  Although  this  appeared,  naturally  enough,  very  ridiculous 
to  an  I'"nglish  ofVicer,  who  considered  the  master  of  such  a  retinue 
•  I-cllcrs  from  Siotliiiul,  vol.  ii,  p.  15. 


Canto  III.]  THE  LADY  Of   THE  LAKE.  I41 

By  the  low-lcvcUVl  siinl)cam's  light ! 
For  strength  and  stature,  from  the  clan 
Each  warrior  was  a  chosen  man, 
As  even  afar  might  well  be  seen, 
By  their  proud  step  and  martial  mien. 
Their  feathers  dance,  their  tartans  float, 
Their  targets  gleam,  as  by  the  boat 
A  wild  and  warlike  group  they  stand, 
That  well  became  such  mountain-strand. 


XXVIII. 

Their  Chief,  with  step  reluctant,  still 
Was  lingering  on  the  craggy  hill, 
Hard  by  where  turn'd  apart  the  road 
To  Douglas's  obscure  abode. 
It  was  but  with  that  dawning  morn. 
That  Rhoderick  Dhu  had  pro?idly  sworn 
To  drown  his  love  in  war's  wild  roar,' 
Nor  think  of  Ellen  Douglas  more  ; 
But  he  who  stems  a  stream  with  sand, 
And  fetters  flame  with  flaxen  band, 

as  no  more  than  an  English  gentleman  of  £500  a  year,  jet  in  the 
circumstances  ot' the  chief,  whose  strength  and  importance  consisted 
in  the  number  and  attachment  of  his  followers,  it  was  of  the  last 
consequence,  in  point  of  policy,  to  have  in  his  gift  subordinate 
offices,  which  called  immediately  round  his  person  those  who  were 
most  devoted  to  him,  and,  being  of  value  in  their  estimation,  were 
also  the  means  of  rewarding  them. 

1  MS.  :   "  To  drown  his  grief  \\-\.  war's  wild  roar, 
Nor  think  o{ love  and  Ellen  more." 


142  /•///;  I. Any  of  the  j.akf..       [cant..  mi. 


Has  yet  a  liardcr  task  to  prove  — 

liy  firm  resolve  to  conquer  love  ! 

Kve  finds  the  Chief,  like  restless  «;h()st, 

Still  hoverini;  near  his  treasure  lost ; 

For  thoui;h  his  hau<;hty  heart  deny 

A  partin^;"  meeting  to  his  eye, 

Still  fondly  strains  his  anxious  car, 

The  accents  of  her  voice  to  hear. 

And  inly  did  he  curse  the  breeze 

That  waked  to  sound  the  rustling  trees. 

But  hark!  what  mingles  in  the  strain? 

It  is  the  harp  of  Allan-Bane, 

That  wakes  its  measures  slow  and  high, 

Attuned  to  sacred  minstrelsy. 

What  melting  voice  attends  the  strings."* 

'Tis  I'^llen,  or  an  angel,  sings. 


XXIX. 

HYMN    TO    Tin:    VIRGIN. 

Ave  Maria  !  maiden  mild! 

Listen  to  a  maiden's  jjrayer! 
Thou  canst  hear  though  from  the  wild, 

Thou  canst  save  amid  despair. 
Safe  may  we  sleep  beneath  thy  care, 

Though  banish'd,  outcast,  and  reviled  — 
Maiden  !  hear  a  maiden's  j)raycr  ; 

Mother,  hear  a  su])j)liant  child! 

Ave  Maria! 


Canto  III.1  77/^   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  143 

Ave  Maria  !  undefilcd  ! 

The  flinty  couch  we  now  must  share' 
Shall  seem  with  down  of  eider'piled, 

If  thy  protection  hover  there. 
The  murky  cavern's  heavy  air^ 

Shall  breathe  of  balm  if  thou  hast  smiled ; 
Then,  Maiden  !  hear  a  maiden's  prayer, 

Mother,  list  a  suppliant  child  ! 

Ave  Maria! 

Ave  Maria!  stainless  styled ! 

Foul  demons  of  the  earth  and  air, 
From  this  their  wonted  haunt  exiled, 

Shall  flee  before  thy  presence  fair. 
We  bow  us  to  our  lot  of  care,    • 

Beneath  thy  guidance  reconciled  ; 
Hear  for  a  m^id  a  maiden's  prayer. 

And  for  a  father  hear  a  child ! 

Ave  lilaria! 

XXX. 

Died  on  the  harp  the  closing  hymn  — 
Unmoved  in  attitude  and  limb. 
As  list'ning  still,  Clan-Alpine's  lord 
Stood  leaning  on  his  heavy  sword, 
Until  the  page,  with  humble  sign. 
Twice  pointed  to  the  sun's  decline. 

• 

1  MS.  :  "  The  flinty  couch  my  sire  must  share." 

2  MS.  :    "  The  murky  grotto's  noxious  air." 


r44  THE   I.ADV  OF    TIIF.    LAKE.         [Cam.,  in. 


Tlicii  while  his  plaicl  around  him  cast, 
'Mt  is  the  last  time  —  'tis  the  last," 
He  muttered  thrice,  —  "the  last  time  e'er 
lliat  angel-voice  shall  Roderick  hear!" 
It  was  a  iroadincj  thought — his  stride 
Hied  hastier  down  the  mountain-side; 
Sullen  he  flung  him  in  the  boat, 
And  instant  'cross  the  lake  it  shot. 
They  landed  in  that  silvery  bay. 
And  eastward  held  their  hasty  way, 
Till,  with  the  latest  beams  of  light. 
The  band  arrived  on  Lanrick  height, 
Where  muster'd,  in  the  vale  below,' 
Clan-iVlpine's  men  in  martial  show. 

XXXI. 

A  various  scene  the  clansmen  made, 

Some  sate,  some  stood,  some  slowly  stray'd; 

]5ut  most  with  mantles  folded  round. 

Were  couch'd  to  rest  upon  the  ground, 

Scarce  to  be  known  by  curious  eye. 

From  the  deep  heather  where  they  lie, 

So  well  was  match'd  the  tartan  screen 

With  heath-bell  dark  and  brackens  green  ; 

Unless  where,  here  and  there,  a  blade, 

Or  lance's  point,  a  glimmer  made. 

Like  glow-worm  twinkling  through  the  shade, 

'  MS.  :  "  Where  hro.nd  extending  far  below, 

Muster'd  Clan-Alpinc'H  martial  sliow." 


Canto  III.]         THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  145 

But  when,  advancing-  through  the  gloom, 
They  saw  the  Chieftain's  eagle  plume, 
Their  shout  of  welcome,  shrill  and  wide, 
Shook  the  steep  mountain's  steady  side. 
Thrice  it  arose,  and  lake  and  fell 
Three  times  return'd  the  martial  yell ; 
It  died  upon  Bochastle's  plain. 
And  silence  claimed  her  evening  reign. 


CANTO    FOURTH. 

THE   PROPHECY. 

I. 

"The  rose  is  fairest  when  'tis  bucklin;:,^  new, 

And  hope  is  l^rightest  wlien  it  dawns  from  fears  ; ' 
The  rose  is  sweetest  wash'd  with  inornini;"  dew, 
And  love  is  loveliest  when  cniljalm'd  in  tears 
O  wilding  rose,  whom  fancy  thus  endears, 
I  bid  your  blossoms  in  my  bonnet  wave, 
ICmblem  of  hope  and  love  through  future  years!" 
Thus  spoke  young  Norman,  heir  of  Armandave, 
What  time  the  sun  arose  on  Vcnnachar's  broad  wave. 

II. 

Such  fond  conceit,  half  said,  half  sung, 
Love  prompted  to  the  bridegroom's  tongue. 
All  while  he  stripp'd  the  wild-rose  spray, 
His  axe  and  bow  beside  him  lay. 
For  on  a  pass  'twixt  lake  and  wood, 
A  wakeful  sentinel  he  stood. 
Hark!  —  on  the  rock  a  footstep  rung, 
And  instant  to  his  arms  he  sprung. 

1  MS.  :  "  Ami  mTitmc  dearest  when  obscured  h\  fears." 
145 


CANTO  IV,]         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  1 47 

"Stand,  or  thou  dicst!  —  What,  Malise? — soon 

Art  thou  rcturn'd  from  Braes  of  Doune. 

By  thy  keen  step  and  glance  I  know, 

Thou  bring'st  us  tidings  of  the  foe." 

(For  while  the  Fiery  Cross  hied  on, 

On  distant  scout  had  Malise  gone.) 

"Where  sleeps  the  Chief?"  the  henchman  said. 

"Apart  in  yonder  misty  glade; 

To  his  lone  couch  I'll  be  your  guide." 

Then  call'd  a  slumberer  by  his  side. 

And  stirr'd  him  with  his  slacken'd  bow  — 

"  Up,  up,  Glentarkin !  rouse  thee,  ho ! 

We  seek  the  Chieftain ;  on  the  track, 

Keep  eagle  watch  till  I  come  back." 

III. 

Together  up  the  pass  they  sped : 

"What  of  the  foemen.^"  Norman  said. 

"Varying  reports  from  near  and  far; 

This  certain,  —  that  a  band  of  war 

Has  for  two  days  been  ready  boune, 

At  prompt  command,  to  march  from  Doune  j 

King  James,  the  while,  with  princely  powers, 

Holds  revelry  in  Stirling  towers. 

Soon  will  this  dark  and  gathering  cloud 

Speak  on  our  glens  in  thunder  loud. 

Inured  to  bide  such  bitter  bout, 

The  warrior's  plaid  may  bear  it  out ; 


14^  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.         [Canto  IV. 


])Ut    Norman,  Iiow  wilt  tliou  provide 

A  shelter  iur  thy  bonny  bride?"  — 

"  What !  know  yc  not  that  Roderick's  care 

To  the  lone  isle  hath  caused  repair 

L^ach  maid  and  matron  of  the  clan, 

And  every  child  and  a£,^ed  man, 

Unfit  for  arms ;  and  given  his  charge, 

Nor  skiff  nor  shallop,  boat  nor  barge, 

Upon  these  lakes  shall  float  at  large, 

lUit  all  beside  the  islet  moor, 

That  such  dear  pledge  may  rest  secure  ? 

IV. 

"'Tis  well  advised  —  the  Chieftain's  plan  ' 

Bespeaks  the  father  of  his  clan, 

]5ut  wherefore  sleeps  Sir  Roderick  Dhu 

Apart  from  all  his  followers  true.^"  — 

"  It  is,  because  last  evening-tide 

Brian  an  augury  hath  tried. 

Of  that  dread  kind  which  must  not  be 

Unless  in  dread  extremity, 

The  Taghairm  call'd  ;  by  which  afar, 

Our  sires  foresaw  the  events  of  war.' 

Duncraggan's  milk-white  bull  they  slew." 

*  MS.  :  "'Ti^.  well  advised  — n  prudcnf  |ilan, 

Worthy  the  father  of  his  clan." 
'  Sec  Appendix,  Note  I. 


Canto  IV.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  T49 

MALISE. 

"  Ah  !  well  the  gallant  brute  I  knew  ! 
The  choicest  of  the  prey  we  had, 
When  swept  our  merry-men  Gallangad.' 
His  hide  was  snow,  his  horns  were  dark, 
His  red  eye  glow'd  like  fiery  spark ; 
So  fierce,  so  tameless,  and  so  fleet, 
Sore  did  he  cumber  our  retreat, 
And  kept  our  stoutest  kernes  in  awe, 
Even  at  the  pass  of  Beal  'maha. 
But  steep  and  flinty  was  the  road. 
And  sharp  the  hurrying  pikemen's  goad, 

1  I  know  not  if  it  be  worth  observing,  that  this  passage  is  taken 
ahnost  literally  from  the  mouth  of  an  old  Highland  Kern,  or  Ket- 
teran,  as  they  were  called.  He  used  to  narrate  the  merry  doings  of 
the  good  old  time  when  he  was  a  follower  of  Rob  Roy  MacGregor. 
This  leader,  on  one  occasion,  thought  proper  to  make  a  descent  upon 
the  lower  part  of  the  Loch  Lomond  district,  and  summoned  all  the 
heritors  and  farmers  to  meet  at  the  Kirk  of  Drymen,  to  pay  him 
black-mail,  /.  e.  tribute  for  forbearance  and  protection.  As  this 
invitation  was  supported  by  a  band  of  thirty  or  forty  stout  fellows, 
only  one  gentleman,  an  ancestor,  if  I  mistake  not,  of  the  present 
Mr.  Grahame  of  Gartmore,  ventured  to  decline  compliance.  Rob 
Roy  instantly  swept  his  land  of  all  he  could  drive  away,  and  among 
the  spoil  was  a  bull  of  the  old  Scottish  wild  breed,  whose  ferocity 
occasioned  great  plague  to  the  Ketterans.  "  But  ere  we  had  reached 
the'Row  of  Dennan,"  said  the  old  man,  "  a  child  might  have  scratched 
bis  ears."*  The  circumstance  is  a  minute  one,  but  it  paints  the 
times  when  the  poor  beeve  was  compelled  — 

"  To  hoof  it  o'er  as  many  weary  miles, 
With  Ejoading-  pikemcn  hollowing  at  his  heels, 
As  e'er  the  bravest  antler  of  the  woods." 

Ethv.'ald. 

*  This  anecdote  was,  in  former  editions,  inaccurately  ascribed  to  Gregor  Macgregor 
OJ  Glengyle,  called  Ghlur.e  Dint,  or  Black-knee,  a  relation  of  Rob  Roy,  but,  as  I  have 
been  assured,  not  addicted  to  his  predatory  excesses,  — iV<//e  to  Third  Edition. 


I50  TJIE   LADY  OF    THE   LAKE.         1  Can  to  IV. 

And  when  wc  came  to  Dciinan's  Row, 

A  child  might  scatheless  stroke  his  brow." 


V. 

NORM  AN. 

"That  bull  was  slain:  his  reeking  hide 
They  sti''etch'd  the  cataract  beside, 
Whose  waters  their  wild  tumult  toss 
Adown  the  black  and  craggy  boss 
Of  that  huge  cliff,  whose  ample  verge 
Tradition  calls  the  Hero's  Targe." 
Couch'tl  on  a  shelve  beneath  its  brink, 
Close  where  the  thundering  torrents  sink. 
Rocking  beneath  their  headlong  sway, 
And  drizzled  by  the  ceaseless  spray. 
Midst  groan  of  rock,  and  roar  of  stream, 
The  wizard  waits  jMoijlietic  dream. 
Nor  distant  rests  the  Chief; — but  hush! 
See,  gliding  slow  through  mist  and  bush. 
The  hermit  gains  yon  rock,  and  stands 
To  gaze  upon  our  sluml.ering  bands. 
Seems  he  not,  Malise,  like  a  gho.'-t, 
That  hovers  o'er  a  slaughter'd  ho.st } 

'  There  is  .1  rock  so  nnnicil  in  llic  Forest  of  Glenfiiilas,  bv  wliidi 
a  Uiimiltuary  cr.tnract  takes  its  course.  Tin's  wikl  place  is  said  in 
former  times  to  have  atlordcd  refuse  to  an  outlaw,  who  was  supplied 
with  provisions  bv  a  woman,  who  lowered  them  down  from  the 
brink  of  the  precipice  above.  II is  water  he  |irocnred  lor  himself,  by 
)ettini,'  down  a  llagon  tied  to  a  string,  into  the  black  pool  beneath  the 
fall. 


Canto  IV.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  151 

Or  raven  on  the  blasted  oak, 

That,  watching  while  the  deer  is  broke/ 

His  morsel  claims  with  sullen  croak  ?  " 


MALISE. 

—  "Peace!  peace  !  to  other  than  to  me, 
Thy  words  were  evil  augury ; 

1  Quartered.  — Everything  belonging  to  the  chase  was  matter  of 
solemnity  among  our  ancestors ;  but  nothing  was  more  so  than  the 
mode  of  cutting  up,  or,  as  it  was  technically  called,  breaking,  the 
slaughtered  stag.  The  forester  had  his  allotted  portion  ;  the  hounds 
had  a  certain  allowance;  and,  to  make  the  division  as  general  as 
possible,  the  very  birds  had  their  share  also.  "  There  is  a  little 
gnstle,"  says  Tuberville,  "which  is  upon  the  spoone  of  the  brisket, 
which  we  call  the  raven's  bone ;  and  I  have  seen  in  some  places  a 
raven  so  wont  and  accustomed  to  it,  that  she  would  never  fail  to 
croak  and  cry  for  it  all  the  time  you  were  in  breaking  up  of  the  deer, 
and  would  not  depart  till  she  had  it."  In  the  very  ancient  metrical 
romance  of  Sir  Tristrem,  that  peerless  knight,  who  is  said  to  have 
been  the  very  deviser  of  all  rules  of  chase,  did  not  omit  the  ceremony. 

"  The  rauen  he  yaue  his  yiftes 
Sat  on  the  fourched  tre." 

The  raven  might  also  challenge  his  rights  by  the  Book  of  St. 
Albans ;  for  thus  says  Dame  Juliana  Berners  : 

"  Slitteth  anon 

The  bely  to  the  side,  from  the  corbyn  bone  : 
That  is  corbyn's  fee,  at  the  death  he  will  be." 

Jonson,  in  "  The  Sad  Shepherd,"  gives  a  more  poetical  account 
of  the  same  ceremony  :  — 

"  Marian.     He  that  undoes  him 

Doth  cleave  the  brisket  bone,  upon  the  spoon 
Of  which  a  little  gristle  grows  —  you  call  it  — 

Robin  Hood.     The  raven's  bone. 

Marian.     Xow  o'er  head  sat  a  raven 
On  a  sere  bough,  a  grown,  great  bird,  and  hoarse, 
Who,  all  the  while  the  deer  was  breaking  up, 
So  croak'd  and  cried  for't,  as  all  the  huntsmen, 
Especially  old  Scathlock,  thought  it  ominous." 


15-  THE   LADY  OF   TIIK  LAKE.         [Canto  IV 

But  Still  I  hold  Sir  Roderick's  blade 

Clan-Alpine's  omen  and  her  aid, 

Not  aught  that,  glean'd  from  heaven  or  hell, 

Yon  fiend-begotten  monk  can  tell. 

The  Chieftain  joins  him,  see — and  now, 

Together  they  descend  the  brow." 

VI. 

And,  as  they  came,  with  Alpine's  Lord 
The  Ileiniit  Monk  held  solemn  word: 
"  Roderick  !  it  is  a  fearful  strife, 
r^or  man  endow'd  with  mortal  life, 
Whose  shroud  of  sentient  clay  can  still 
Feel  feverish  pang  and  fainting  chill. 
Whose  eye  can  stare  in  stony  trance, 
Whose  hair  can  nnise  like  warrior's  lance, — 
'Tis  hard  for  such  to  view,  unfurl'd, 
The  curtain  of  the  future  world. 
Yet  witness  every  quaking  limb, 
My  sunken  pulse,  mine  eyeballs  dim. 
My  soul  with  harrowing  anguish  torn, 
This  for  my  Chieftain  have  I  borne!  — 
The  shapes  that  sought  my  fearful  couch, 
A  human  tongue  may  ne'er  avouch  ; 
No  mortal  man,  —  save  he,  who,  bred 
Between  the  living  and  the  dead. 
Is  gifted  beyond  nature's  law, — 
Had  e'er  surviv'd  to  say  he  saw. 


Canto  IV.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  153 


At  length  the  fateful  answer  came, 

In  characters  of  living  flame  ! 

Not  spoke  in  word,  nor  blazed  in  scroll, 

But  borne  and  branded  on  my  soul ;  — 

Which  spills  the  foremost  foeman's  life,' 

That  party  conquers  in  the  strife."—^ 

VII. 

"Thanks,  Brian,  for  thy  zeal  and  care! 
Good  is  thine  augury,  and  fair. 
Clan-Alpine  ne'er  in  battle  stood. 
But  rirst  our  broadswords  tasted  blood. 
A  surer  victim  still  I  know. 
Self-offer'd  to  the  auspicious  blow  : 
A  spy  has  sought  my  land  this  morn. 
No  eve  shall  witness  his  return  ! 
My  followers  guard  each  pass's  mouth, 
To  east,  to  westward,  and  to  south ; 
Red  Murdoch,  bribed  to  be  his  guide,^ 
Has  charge  to  lead  his  steps  aside, 

'  MS.  :  "Which  foremost  spills  a  foeman's  life." 
2  Though  this  be  in  the  text  described  as  a  response  of  the  Tag- 
hairm,  or  Oracle  of  the  Hide,  it  was  of  itself  an  augury  frequently 
attended  to.  The  fate  of  the  battle  was  often  anticipated  in  the 
imagination  of  the  combatants,  by  observing  which  party  first  shed 
blood.  It  is  said  that  the  Highlanders  under  Montrose  were  so 
deeply  imbued  with  this  notion,  that  on  the  morning  of  the  battle  of 
Tippermoor,  they  murdered  a  defenceless  herdsman,  whom  they 
found  in  the  fields,  merely  to  secure  an  advantage  of  so  much  con- 
sequence to  their  party. 

^  MS.  :  "The  clansmen  vainly  deem'd  his  guide." 


154  TJIE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.         [Canto  IV. 


Till,  in  deep  jjath  or  dingle  brown, 
He  light  un  those  shall  bring  him  down.' 
—  But  sec,  who  comes  his  news  to  show  ! 
Malisc!  what  tidings  of  the  foe?"  — 

VIII. 

"At  Dounc,  o'er  many  a  spear  and  glaive 

Two  Barons  proud  their  banners  wave. 

I  saw  the  Moray's  silver  star. 

And  mark'd  the  sable  pale  of  Mar."  — 

"  By  Alpine's  soul,  high  tidiilgs  those ! 

I  love  to  hear  o^  worthy  foes. 

When  move  they  on  .''  " —  "  Tomorrow's  no(jn  ^ 

Will  see  them  here  for  battle  boune."  —  ^ 

"Then  shall  it  see  a  meeting  stern  !  — 

lUit  for  the  i)lace  —  say,  couldst  thou  learn 

Nought  of  the  friendly  clans  of  luirn  "■ 

Strengthen'd  by  them,  we  well  might  bide 

The  battle  on  IV-nledi's  side. 

Thou  couldst  not .'  —  Well  !  Clan-Al]iine's  men 

Shall  man  the  Trosach'.s  shaggy  glen  ; 

Within  Loch  Katrine's  gorge  we'll  fight, 

All  in  our  maids'  and  matrons'  sight, 

'  MS.  :   •'  Ik-  liifht  on  tliosc  sliall  stall  liini  down." 

•1  -Kt^       i    .  iiM  .1  5-    f    ' 'lliis  Mill  )     » 

•*  Mb.  :  '•  '  Wlicii  move  tlicv  on.'    -,'      ,„     ,  }  at  noon 

I.   '  I  o-(la y     ) 

' 'Tis  said  will  slc  tluMn  inarcli  from  Dmiiic' 

. ,,,  ,1        ^  makes  1  ..         ,         ,.i 

'  1  o-morrow  then  ]  }  meeting  btcrn. 

(     sees    j 

^  Eor  battle  boiinc — ready  fur  bailie. 


Canto  IV.J  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  155 


Each  for  his  hearth  and  household  fire. 
Father  for  child,  and  son  for  sire,  — 
Lover  for  maid  beloved  !  —  But  why  — 
Is  it  the  breeze  affects  mine  eye  ? 
Or  dost  thou  come,  ill-omen'd  tear ! 
A  messenger  of  doubt  or  fear  ? 
No  !  sooner  may  the  Saxon  lance 
Unfix  Benledi  from  his  stance, 
Than  doubt  or  terror  can  pierce  through 
The  unyielding  heart  of  Roderick  Dhu ! 
'Tis  stubborn  as  his  trusty  targe.  — ' 
Each  to  his  post !  —  all  know  their  charge." 
The  pibroch  sounds,  the  bands  advance, 
The  broadswords  gleam,  the  banners  dance, 
Obedient  to  the  Chieftain's  glance. 
—  I  turn  me  from  the  martial  roar. 
And  see  Coir-Uriskin  once  more. 

IX. 

Where  is  the  Douglas  .?  —  he  is  gone  ; 
And  Ellen  sits  on  the  gray  stone 
Fast  by  the  cave,  and  makes  her  moan ; 
While  vainly  Allan's  words  of  cheer 
Are  pour'd  on  her  unheeding  ear.  — 
"  He  will  return  —  Dear  lady,  trust !  — 
With  joy  return  ;  —  he  will,  he  must. 
Well  was  it  time  to  seek,  afar. 
Some  refuge  from  impending  war, 

'  MS.  :  "  Tis  stubbo.rn  as  his  Highland  targe." 


156  THE   LA  in'  or    THE   LAKE.         [Cant..  \\ 


When  e'en  Clan-Alpine's  rui;<^ed  swarm 
Are  cow'd  by  the  approaching  storm. 
I  saw  their  boats  with  many  a  light, 
Floating  the  live-long  yesternight, 
Shifting  like  flashes  darted  forth  ' 
By  the  red  streamers  of  the  north  ; 
I  mark'd  at  morn  how  close  they  ride, 
Thick  moor'd  by  the  lone  islet's  side, 
Like  wild-ducks  couching  in  the  fen. 
When  stoops  the  hawk  u])on  the  glen. 
Since  this  rude  race  dare  not  abide 
The  i)eril  on  the  mainland  side. 
Shall  not  thy  ncjble  father's  care 
Some  safe  retreat  for  thee  prej)are.''"  — 

X. 

KLLEN. 

"No,  Allan,  no!      Tretcxt  so  kind- 
My  wakeful  tenors  could  not  blind. 

1  MS.  :     'Thick  as  the  fla.shcs  darted  forth 

I>v  inorricc-dancers  oftlie  north; 

A     1  L  .1    •      I  barijes  ride, 

And  saw  at  morn  then-    ,  ..    T    , 

I  little  lleet, 

Close  moor'd  hy  the  lone  islet's  side. 

Siiue  this  rude  race  ilare  not  abiiie 

Upon  their  native  mountain  side, 

'Tis  fit  that  l)ont,das  should  |)rovidc 

For  his  dear  child  some  sale  alxjde, 

And  soon  he  comes  \.o  point  the  road." 

2  MS.  :  "  No.  Allan,  no!     I  lis  words  sf)  kind 

Were  hut  |>retexls  my  fears  to  blind, 
When  in  such  solemn  tf)ne  and  Ljrave, 
Douglas  a  partins,'  blessing  gave." 


CANTO  IV.]         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  157 


When  in  such  tender  tone,  yet  grave, 

Douglas  a  parting  blessing  gave, 

The  tear  that  glisten'd  in  his  eye 

Drown 'd  not  his  purpose  fix'd  on  high. 

My  soul,  though  feminine  and  weak. 

Can  image  his ;  e'en  as  the  lake. 

Itself  disturb'd  by  slightest  stroke,' 

Reflects  the  invulnerable  rock. 

He  hears  report  of  battle  rife, 

He  deems  himself  the  cause  of  strife. 

I  saw  him  redden,  when  the  theme 

Turn'd,  Allan,  on  thine  idle  dream. 

Of  Malcolm  Graeme,  in  fetters  bound. 

Which  I,  thou  saidst,  about  him  wound. 

Think'st  thou  he  trow'd  thine  omen  aught .? 

Oh  no  !  'twas  apprehensive  thought 

For  the  kind  youth, — for  Roderick  too  — 

(Let  me  be  just)  that  friend  so  true  ; 

In  danger  both,  and  in  our  cause ! 

Minstrel,  the  Douglas  dare  not  pause. 

Why  else  that  solemn  warning  given, 

'  If  not  on  earth,  we  meet  in  heaven ! ' 

Why  else,  to  Cambus-kenneth's  fane, 

If  eve  return  him  not  again. 

Am  I  to  hie,  and  make  me  known } 

Alas  !  he  goes  to  Scotland's  throne, 

Buys  his  friend's  safety  with  his  own  ;  — 

1  MS.  :   "  Itself  disturb'd  by  slightest  sht)ck, 
Reflects  the  adamantine  rock." 


iS'*^  TJIE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKH  | Canto  IV. 


lie  goes  In  do — what  J  had  done, 

Had  Duuglas'  daughter  been  his  son  I  "  — 


XI. 

"  Nay,  lovely  Mllcn  !  —  dearest,  nay  ! 

Jf  aught  should  his  return  delay, 

He  only  named  yon  holy  fane 

As  fitting  place  to  meec  again. 

Be  sure  he's  safe  ;  and  for  the  Graeme, — 

Heaven's  blessing  on  liis  gallant  name!  — 

My  vision'd  sight  may  yet  prove  true, 

Nor  bode  of  ill  to  him  or  you, 

When  did  my  gifted  dream  beguile .-' 

Think  of  the  stranger  at  the  isle. 

And  think  upon  the  harpings  slow. 

That  presaged  this  approaching  woe! 

Sooth  was  my  prophecy  of  fear ; 

Ik-lie ve  it  when  it  augurs  cheer. 

Would  we  had  left  this  dismal  spot ! 

Ill  luck  still  haunts  a  fairy  grot. 

( )f  such  a  wondrous  tale  I  know  — 

Dear  lady,  change  that  look  of  woe, 

My  hari)  was  wont  thy  grief  to  cheer."  — 

KT.LF.N. 

"  Well,  be  it  as  thou  wilt  ;  I  hear, 
JUit  cannot  stoji  the  bursting  tear." 
The  minstcel  tried  his  simjile  art, 
But  distant  far  was  I^llen's  heart. 


Canto  IV.]  THE   LADY  OF    TJ/IC   LAKE.  1 59 

XII. 

BALLAD  1  :     ALICE    BRAND. 

Merry  it  is  in  the  good  greenwood, 

When  the  mavis  ^  and  merle '"^  are  singing, 

When  the  deer  sweeps  by,  and  the  hounds  are  in  cry, 
And  the  hunter's  horn  is  ringing. 

"  O  AHce  Brand,  my  native  land 
Is  lost  for  love  of  you  ; 
And  we  must  hold  by  wood  and  wold, 
As  outlaws  wont  to  do. 

"O  Alice,  'twas  all  for  thy  locks  so  bright. 
And  'twas  all  for  thine  eyes  so  blue. 
That  on  the  night  of  our  luckless  flight, 
Thy  brother  bold  I  slew. 

"  Now  must  I  teach  to  hew  the  beech 
The  hand  that  held  the  glaive. 
For  leaves  to  spread  our  lowly  bed, 
And  stakes  to  fence  our  cave. 

"And  for  vest  of  pall,  thy  fingers  small, 
That  wont  on  harp  to  stray, 
A  cloak  must  shear  from  the  slaughter'd  deer, 
To  keep  the  cold  away."  — 

^  See  Appendix,  Note  K. 
2  Thrush.  3  Blackbird. 


l6o  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  [Canto  IV. 


"O  Richard!   il   my  brother  died, 
"Iwas  but  a  fatal  chance ; 
For  darkhng  was  the  battle  tried, 
And  fortune  sped  the  lance. ^ 

"  It    ]iall  and  vair  no  more  T  wear, 
Nor  thou  the  crimson  sheen, 
As  warm,  we'll  say,  is  the  russet  gray 
As  gay  the  forest-green. 

"  y\nd,  Richard,  if  our  lot  be  hard. 
And  lost  thy  native  land, 
Still  Alice  has  her  own  Richard, 
And  he  his  Alice  l^rand." 

XIII. 

B.MJ.An    CONTlNTKn. 

'Tis  merry,  'tis  merry,  in  good  greenwood. 

So  blithe  Lady  Alice  is  singing; 
( )n  the  beech's  pride,  and  oak's  brown  side, 

Lord  Richard's  axe  is  ringing. 

Up  spoke  the  moody  I^lfm  King, 
Who  won'd  within  the  hill, — - 

'M.S. :  "  'Twas  Init  .i  midniplit  ch.incc; 

Ft)r  l)liiulfol(l  was  tlic  baUlc  plied. 

And  fortune  held  the  lance." 

-  In    a    long    dissertation    upon    the    Kairu  .Sii]icrstifioiis,    piildishcd 

in    the    Minstrcl.sy   of    the    Scottish    IJorder,   the   most   valuable   jiart  of 

which  was  supplied    hy   my  learned    and    indefatigable  friend,  I  )r.  fohn 

I.ivdcn.    most    of    the    circumsianccs   are    collected    which    can     throw 


Canto  IV.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  l6l 


Like  wind  in  the  porch  of  a  ruin'd  church, 
His  voice  was  ghostly  shrill. 

liglit  upon  tlie  popular  belief  which  even  yet  prevails  respecting 
them  in  Scotland.  Dr.  Graham,  author  of  an  entertaining  work 
upon  the  Scenery  of  the  Perthshire  Highlands,  already  frequently 
quoted,  has  recorded,  with  great  accuracy,  the  peculiar  tenets  held 
by  the  Highlanders  on  this  topic,  in  the  vicinity  of  Loch  Katrine. 
The  learned  author  is  inclined  to  deduce  the  whole  mythology 
from  the  Druidical  system,  —  an  opinion  to  which  there  are  many 
objections. 

"The  Daoine  ShP  or  Men  of  Peace  of  the  Highlanders,  though 
not  absolutely  malevolent,  are  believed  to  be  a  peevish,  repining 
race  of  beings,  who  possessing  themselves  but  a  scanty  portion  of 
happiness,  are  supposed  to  envy  mankind  their  more  complete  and 
substantial  enjoyments.  They  are  supposed  to  enjoy  in  their  sub- 
terraneous recesses,  a  sort  of  shadpwy  happiness,  — a  tinsel  grandeur; 
which,  however,  they  would  willingly  exchange  for  the  more  solid 
joys  of  mortality. 

"  They  are  believed  to  inhabit  certain  round  grassy  eminences, 
where  the}'  celebrate  their  nocturnal  festivities  by  the  light  of  the 
moon.  About  a  mile  beyond  the  source  of  the  Forth  above  Lochcon, 
there  is  a  place  called  Coirs/n'an,  or  the  Cove  of  the  Men  of  Peace, 
which  is  still  supposed  to  be  a  favorite  place  of  their  residence.  In 
the  neighborhood  are  to  be  seen  many  round  conical  eminences; 
particularly  one,  near  the  head  of  the  lake,  by  the  skirts  of  which 
man}'  are  still  afraid  to  pass  after  sunset.  It  is  believed,  that  if,  on 
Hallow-eve,  any  person,  alone,  goes  round  one  of  these  hills  nine 
times,  towards  the  left  hand  {si/iistrorniim)  a  door  shall  open,  by 
which  he  will  be  admitted  into  their  subterraneous  abodes.  Many, 
it  is  said,  of  mortal  race,  have  been  entertained  in  their  secret 
recesses.  There  they  have  been  received  into  the  most  splendid 
apartments,  and  regaled  with  the  most  sumptuous  banquets,  and 
delicious  wines.  Their  females  surpass  the  daughters  of  men  in 
beauty.  The  seemhiffly  happy  inhabitants  pass  their  time  in  festivity, 
and  in  dancing  to  notes  of  the  softest  music.  But  unhappy  is  the 
mortal  who  joins  in  their  joys,  or  ventures  to  partake  of  their 
dainties.  By  this  indulgence,  he  forfeits  forever  the  society  of  men, 
and  is  bound  down  irrevocably  to  the  condition  of  S/ii'ic//,  or  Man 
of  Peace. 

"A  woman,  as  is  reported  in  the  Highland  tradition,  was  con- 


1^2  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.         [Canto  IV. 


"Why  sounds  yon  stroke  on  l)ccch  and  oak, 
Our  moonlight  circle's  screen  ? ' 

Or  who  comes  here  to  chase  the  deer, 
Beloved  of  our  IClfin  Queen  ?- 

Or  \Vho  may  dare  on  wold  to  wear 
The  fairies'  fatal  green  ?3 


veyed  in  davs  of  yore  into  the  secret  rcccRses  of  the  Men  of  Peace. 
There  she  was  recognized  by  one  who  hail  formerly  been  an  ortiinary 
mortal,  but  wlio  had,  by  some  fatality,  become  associated  wilii  the 
Shi'ichs.  Tiiis  acquaintance,  still  retaining  some  portion  of  human 
benevolence,  warned  her  of  her  danger,  and  counselled  her,  as  she 
valued  her  liberty,  to  abstain  from  eating  and  drinking  with  them 
for  a  certain  space  of  time.  She  complied  with  the  counsel  of  her 
friend;  and  when  the  period  assigned  was  elapsed,  she  found  herself 
again  upon  earth,  restored  to  the  society  of  mortals.  It  is  added, 
that  wl.en  she  examined  the  viands  which  had  been  presented  to  her, 
and  whicli  had  appeared  so  tempting  to  the  eye,  they  were  found, 
now  that  the  enchantment  was  removed,  to  consist  only  of  the  refuse 
of  the  earth."  —  P.  107-11 1. 

'  MS.  :  "  Our  fairy  ri'm^lcfs  screen." 

2  See  Appendix,  Note  L. 

'  As  the  Daoiiic  Slii\  or  Men  of  Peace,  wore  green  habits,  they 
were  supposed  to  take  olTence  when  any  mortals  ventured  to  assume 
their  favorite  colf)r.  Indeed,  from  some  reason,  wiiicii  has  been, 
perhaps,  originally  a  general  superstition,  .^avrw  is  held  in  Scotland 
ti>  be  unlucky  to  parliiular  tribes  and  counties.  The  Caithness  men, 
wIk)  hold  this  belief,  allege,  as  a  reason,  that  their  bands  wore  that 
color  wiien  they  were  cut  o(T  at  the  battle  of  Flodden ;  and  for  the 
same  reason  they  avoid  crossing  the  Ord  on  a  Monday,  being  the 
day  of  the  week  on  which  their  ill-omened  arr.ny  set  forth.  Green 
is  also  disliked  by  those  of  the  name  of  Ogilvy;  but  more  especially 
is  it  held  fatal  to  the  whole  clan  of  Grahamc.  It  is  remembered  of 
an  aged  gentleman  of  that  name,  that  when  his  horse  fell  in  a  fox- 
chase,  he  accounted  for  it  at  once,  by  observing,  that  the  whip-cord 
attached  to  his  lash  was  of  this  unlucky  color. 


Canto  IV.]  THE   LADY  OF    THE   LAKE.  1 63 

"  Up,  Urgan,  up !  to  yon  mortal  hie, 
For  thou  wort  christen'd  man  ; ' 
For  cross  or  sign  tliou  wilt  not  fly, 
For  mutter'd  word  or  ban. 

^  The  Elv^es  were  supposed  greatly  to  envy  the  privileges  acquired 
bv  Christian  initiation,  and  thcv  gave  to  those  mortals  who  had 
fallen  into  their  power,  a  certain  precedence,  founded  upon  this 
advantageous  distinction.  Tamlane,  in  the  old  ballad,  describes  his 
own  rank  in  the  fairy  procession  :  — 

"  For  I  ride  on  a  milk-white  steed, 
And  aye  nearest  the  town  ; 
Because  I  was  a  christen'd  knight, 
They  gave  nie  that  renown." 

I  presume,  that  in  the  Danish  ballad  of  the  Elfin  Grey  (see 
Appendix,  Note  K.)  the  obstinacy  of  the  "  Weist  Elf,"  who  would 
not  flee  for  cross  or  sign,  is  to  be  derived  from  the  circinnstance  of 
his  having  been  "  christen'd  man." 

llow  eager  the  Elves  were  to  obtain  for  their  oft'spring  the  pre- 
rogatives of  Christianity,  will  be  proved  by  the  following  story  :  — 
"In  the  district  called  Ilaga,  in  Iceland,  dwelt  a  nobleman  called 
Sigward  Forster,  who  had  an  intrigue  with  one  of  the  subterranean 
females.  The  elf  became  pregnant  and  exacted  from  her  lover  a 
firm  promise  that  he  would  procure  the  baptism  of  the  infant.  At 
the  appointed  time,  the  mother  came  to  the  churchyard,  on  the  wall 
of  which  she  placed  a  golden  cup,  and  a  stole  for  the  priest,  agreeable 
to  the  custom  of  making  an  offering  at  baptism.  She  then  stood  a 
little  apart.  When  the  priest  left  the  church,  he  inqun-ed  the  mean- 
ing of  what  he  saw,  and  demanded  of  Sigward  if  he  avowed  himself 
the  father  of  the  child.  But  Sigward,  ashamed  of  the  connexion^ 
denied  the  paternity.  He  was  then  interrogated  if  he  desired  that 
the  child  should  be  baptized ;  but  this  also  he  answered  in  the 
negative,  lest,  by  such  request,  he  should  admit  himself  to  be  the 
father.  On  which  the  child  was  left  untouched  and  unbaptized. 
Whereupon  the  mother,  in  extreme  wrath,  snatched  up  the  hifant 
and  the  cup,  and  retired,  leaving  the  priestly  cope,  of  which  frag- 
ments are  still  in  preservation.  But  this  female  denounced  and 
imposed  upon  Sigward,  and  his  posterity,  to  the  ninth  generation,  a 
singular  disease,  with  which  many  of  his  descendants  are  afflicted  at 
this  day."     Thus  wrote  Einar  Dudmond,  pastor  of  the  parish   of 


1 64  HIE  LADV  OF   THE  LAKE.         [Canto  IV. 

"  J, a)'  OP.  him  llio  (.insc  of  llic  u  illK'i"(.l  lic;irt. 

The  curse  of  the  sleepless  eye  ; 
Till  he  wish  ami  i>ray  that  his  life  would  part, 

Nor  yet  find  leave  to  die." 

XIV. 

IIALLAD    CONTINUr.n. 

'Tis  merry,  'tis  merry,  in  good  greenwood, 
Though  the  birds  have  still'd  their  singing  ; 

The  evening  blaze  doth  Alice  raise, 
And  Richard  is  fagots  bringing. 

l^p  Urgan  starts,  that  hideous  dwarf, 

Ik'fore  Lord  Richard  stands. 
And  as  he  cross'd  and  bless'd  himself, 
"I  fear  not  sign,"  quoth  the  grisly  elf, 

"That  is  made  with  bloody  hands." 

Ihit  out  then  spoke  she,  Alice  lirand, 

That  woman  void  of  fear, — 
"And  if  there's  blood  upon  his  hand, 

'Tis  but  the  blood  of  deer."  — 

"  Now  loud  thou  licst,  thou  bf)ld  of  mood  ! 

It  cleaves  unto  his  hand. 
The  stain  of  thine  own  kindly  blood, 

The  blood  of  ICthert  lirand." 

G.irpsdalo,  in  Irolaiu].  a  man  profoundly  vcrsid  in  I.arnini,'.  (mm 
whose  manuHcript  it  was  txlrartcil  by  llic  learned  Torf;vus.  —  ///*- 
(oria  J/rolJi  h'ritkii,  I/<ifni,r,  1715.  /<r,  /alio. 


Canto  IV.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  IO5 

Then  forward  stepp'd  she,  Alice  Brand, 

And  made  the  holy  sign,  — 
"And  if  there's  blood  on  Richard's  hand, 

A  spotless  hand  is  ^line. 

"And  I  conjure  thee,  Demon  elf, 

By  Him  whom  Demons  fear, 
To  show  us  whence  thou  art  thyself. 

And  what  thine  errand  here?"  — 

XV. 

BALLAD    CONTINUED. 

"  'Tis  merry,  'tis  merry,  in  Fairy-land, 

When  fairy  birds  are  singing. 
When  the  court  doth  ride  by  their  monarch's  side, 

With  bit  and  bridle  ringing : 

"And  gaily  shines  the  Fairy-land, 

But  all  is  glistening  show,i 
Like  the  idle  gleam  that  December's  beam 

Can  dart  on  ice  and  snow. 

"  And  fading,  like  that  varied  gleam, 

Is  our  inconstant  shape, 
Who  now  like  knight  and  lady  seem. 

And  now  like  dwarf  and  ape. 

"  It  was  between  the  night  and  day. 
When  the  Fairy  King  has  power. 

See  Appendix,  Note  M. 


if^  THE    LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.        [Cakt..  iv 


That  I  sunk  down  in  a  sinful  fray, 
And,  'twixt  life  and  death,  was  snatch'd  away 
To  the  joyless  Elfin  bower.' 

'•'  15ut  wist  I  of  a  woman  bold, 

Who  thrice  my  brow  durst  sign, 
I  .night  regain  my  mortal  mold, 

As  fair  a  form  as  thine." 

She  cross'd  him  once  —  she  cross'd  him  twice  — 
That  lady  was  so  brave  ; 

'  The  subjects  of  Fiiirv-laiul  were  recruited  from  llie  roi^ioiis  or 
humanity  by  a  sort  oi  criiupinv^  system,  which  extended  to  adults  as 
well  as  to  infants.  Many  of  those  who  were  in  this  world  supposed 
to  have  dischar<,'ed  the  debt  of  nature,  had  only  become  denizens  of 
the  "  Londe  of  Faery."  In  the  beautiful  Fairy  Romance  of  Orfec 
and  Ileurodiis  (Orpheus  and  Enrydice)  in  the  Auchinleck  MS.,  is 
the  fullowini;  slrikinj^  enumeration  of  persons  thus  abstracted  from 
middle  earth.  Mr.  Ritson  unfortunately  published  this  romance 
from  a  copy  in  which  the  following,  and  many  other  hiyhly  poetical 
passages  do  not  occur:  — 

'*  Then  he  jran  hilinlilc-  about  al, 
And  seiche  ful  li>rK«-"">'l  with  in  the  wal, 
or  folk  that  were  Ihiihler  yhrought, 
And  thoiijjht  dede  and  nere  nought; 
Some  stode  witli  outen  haddc; 
And  Sinn  none  amies  nade; 
And  sum  thurch  the  hodi  haddc  woundc  ; 
And  sum  lay  wode  y-lmunde; 
'  And  sum  armed  in  hors  sete; 

And  simi  estranpicd  as  thai  etc; 
And  sum  war  in  water  .adreynt; 
And  sum  with  fire  al  forsclireynl; 
Wives  ther  hiy  on  childe  bedde; 
Sum  dede,  a-id  sum  awechle; 
And  wfuuler  fele  ther  lay  besides, 
Ri^lit  as  thai  slc|>e  her  iindertides ; 
Eche  was  thus  in  the  warld  y-nomt, 
With  fairi  lliider  y<onic." 


Canto  IV.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  167 


The  fouler  grew  his  goblin  hue, 
The  darker  grew  the  cave. 


C>' 


She  cross'd  him  thrice,  that  lady  bold ; 

He  rose  beneath  her  hand 
The  fairest  knight  on  Scottish  mold, 

Her  brother,  Ethert  Brand  ! 

Merry  it  is  in  good  greenwood, 

When  the  mavis  and  merle  are  singing, 
But  merrier  were  they  in  Dunfermline  gray, 

When  all  the  bells  were  ringing. 


XVI. 

Just  as  the  minstrel  sounds  were  stay'd, 

A  stranger  climb'd  the  steepy  glade  : 

His  martial  step,  his  stately  mien, 

His  hunting  suit  of  Lincoln  green, 

His  eagle  glance,  remembrance  claims  — 

'Tis  Snowdoun's  Knight,  'tis  James  Fitz-James. 

Ellen  beheld  as  in  a  dream, 

Then,  starting,  scarce  suppress'd  a  scream : 

"  O  stranger  !  in  such  hour  of  fear, 

What  evil  hap  has  brought  thee  here .'' "  — 

"  An  evil  hap  how  can  it  be. 

That  bids  me  look  again  on  thee  ? 

By  promise  bound,  my  former  guide 

Met  me  betimes  this  morning  tide. 


I68  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.        Icanto  iv. 

Antl  niarshaU'd,  ()\cr  bank  and  bourne, 
The  happy  path  of  my  return."  — 
"The  happy  path  I  —  what!  said  he  nought 
Of  war,  of  battle  to  be  fought, 
Of  guarded  pass  ?  "  —  "  No,  by  my  faith  ! 
Nor  saw  I  aught  could  augur  scathe."  — 
"  O  haste  thee,  Allan,  to  the  kern, 
—  Yonder  his  tartans  I  discern  ; 
Learn  thou  his  purpose,  and  conjure 
That  he  will  guide  the  stranger  sure !  — 
What  prompted  thee,  unhappy  man? 
The  meanest  serf  in  Roderick's  clan 
Had  not  been  bribed  by  love  or  fear. 
Unknown  to  him  to  guide  thee  here." 

XVII. 

"Sweet  r^llen,  dear  my  life  must  be, 
Since  it  is  worthy  care  from  thee  ; 
Yet  life  I  hold  but  idle  breath. 
When  love  or  honor's  weigh 'd  with  death. 
Then  let  me  profit  by  my  chance, 
And  speak  my  purpose  liold  at  once. 
I  come  to  bear  thee  from  a  wild, 
Where  ne'er  before  such  blossom  smiled: 
l^y  this  soft  hand  to  lead  thee  far 
From  frantic  scenes  of  feud  and  war. 
Near  Bochastle  my  horses  wait  ' 
They  bear  us  soon  to  Stirling  gate. 

'   MS.  :  "  />'v  Cainfmsiiiorc  niv  horses  wait." 


Canto  IV.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  1 69 


I'll  place  thee  in  a  lovely  bower, 

I'll  guard  thee  like  a  tender  flower  " 

"  O !  hush,  Sir  Knight !  'twere  female  art, 

To  say  I  do  not  read  thy  heart ; 

Too  much,  before,  my  selfish  ear 

Was  idly  soothed  my  praise  to  hear.' 

That  fatal  bait  hath  lured  thee  back. 

In  deathful  hour,  o'er  dangerous  track; 

And  how,  O  how,  can  I  atone 

The  wreck  my  vanity  brought  on !  — 

One  way  remains  —  I'll  tell  him  all  — 

Yes  !  struggling  bosom,  forth  it  shall ! 

Thou,  whose  light  folly  bears  the  blame, 

Buy  thine  own  pardon  with  thy  shame ! 

But  first  —  my  father  is  a  man 

Outlaw'd  and  exiled,  under  ban  ; 

The  price  of  blood  is  on  his  head. 

With  me  'twere  infamy  to  wed.  — 

Still  would'st  thou  speak  t  —  then  hear  the  truth! 

Fitz-James,  there  is  a  noble  youth,  — 

If  yet  he  is  !  —  exposed  for  me 

And  mine  to  dread  extremity  — 

Thou  hast  the  secret  of  my  heart ; 

Forgive,  be  generous,  and  depart ! " 

1  MS.  :  "  Was  idly  foud  thy  praise  to  hear." 


I70  1111-:   LADV  OF   THE  LAKE.         [Canto  IV- 

XVIII. 

Fitz-Jamcs  knew  every  wily  train 

A  lady's  fickle  heart  to  j^ain, 

lUit  here  he  knew  and  felt  them  vain. 

There  shot  no  glance  from  Ellen's  eye, 

To  give  her  steadfast  speech  the  lie  ; 

In  maiden  confidence  she  stood, 

Though  mantled  in  her  cheek  the  blood, 

And  told  her  love  with  such  a  sigh 

Of  deep  and  hopeless  agony. 

As  death  had  seal'd  her  Malcolm's  doom, 

And  she  sat  sorrowing  on  his  tomb. 

Hope  vanished  from  Fitz-James's  eye, 

But  not  with  hope  fled  sympathy. 

He  proffer'd  to  attend  her  side. 

As  brother  would  a  sister  guide. — 

"O!  little  know'st  thou  Roderick's  heart! 

Safer  for  both  we  go  apart. 

O  haste  thee,  and  from  Allan  learn. 

If  thou  may'st  trust  yon  wily  kern." 

With  hand  upon  his  forehead  laid, 

The  conflict  of  his  mind  to  shade 

A  jxiriing  step  or  two  he  made: 

Then,  as  some  thought  had  cross'd  his  brain, 

He  paused,  and  turn'd,  and  came  again. 


Canto  IV.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  I /I 


XIX. 

"  Hear,  lady,  yet  a  parting  word  !  — 

It  chanced  in  fight  that  my  poor  sword 

Preserved  the  life  of  Scotland's  lord. 

This  ring  the  grateful  Monarch  gave,' 

And  bade,  when  I  had  boon  to  crave. 

To  bring  it  back  and  boldly  claim 

The  recompense  that  I  would  name. 

Ellen,  I  am  no  courtly  lord. 

But  one  who  lives  by  lance  and  sword, 

Whose  castle  is  his  helm  and  shield, 

His  lordship  the  embattled  field. 

What  from  a  prince  can  I  demand, 

Who  neither  reck  of  state  nor  land  } 

EUen,  thy  hand  —  the  ring  is  thine  ;  ^ 

Each  guard  and  usher  knows  the  sign. 

Seek  thou  the  king  without  delay ;  ^ 

This  signet  shall  secure  thy  way ; 

And  claim  thy  suit,  whate'er  it  be, 

As  ransom  of  his  pledge  to  me." 

He  placed  the  golden  circlet  on, 

Paused  —  kiss'd  her  hand  —  and  then  was  gone. 


&^ 


1  MS. 

2  MS. 

3  MS. 


"  This  ring  of  gold  the  monarch  gave." 
"  Permit  this  hand  —  tlie  ring  is  thine." 
"  '  Seek  thou  the  King,  and  on  thj'  knee 

Put  forth  thy  suit,  whate'er  it  be, 

As  ransom  of  his  pledge  to  me ; 

Mj  name  and  this  shall  make  thy  way.' 

He  put  the  little  signet  on." 


172  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.        ICanto  iv. 

1  he  aged  Minstrel  stood  aghast, 

So  hastily  Fitz-Jamcs  shot  past. 

lie  join'd  his  guide,  and  winding  down 

The  ridges  of  the  mountain  brown, 

Across  the  stream  they  took  their  way. 

That  joins  Loch  Katrine  to  Achray. 

XX. 

All  in  the  Trosach's  glen  was  still, 

Noontide  was  sleeping  on  the  hill  : 

Sudden  his  guide  whoop'd  loud  and  high  — 

"  Murdoch  !  was  that  a  signal  cry  .''  " 

He  stammer'd  forth,  —  "I  shout  to  scare  ' 

Von  ra\en  from  his  dainty  fare." 

lie  look'd  -  -he  knew  the  raven's  prey. 

His  own  brave  steed  : —  "  Ah  !  gallant  gray  ! 

]"^)r  thee  —  for  nie,  ]ierchance  —  'twere  well 

We  ne'er  had  seen  I  lie  Trosach's  dell.  — 

Muriloch,  m()\'e  first  —  but  silently; 

Whistle  or  whooj),  and  th-)n  shalt  die!" 

Jealous  and  sullen  on  they  fared. 

Each  silent,  each  upon  his  guard. 

XXI. 

Now  wound  the  path  its  dizzy  ledge 
Around  a  precipice's  edge, 

J  MS.  :  "  lie  stammciM  lurtli  ennfuscd  reply: 

'  ^:"^""-  1  I  shouted  but  to  srare 

'  Sir  KmL,'lit.  ' 

Yon  raven  from  Ins  dainty  fare.'" 


Canto  IV.]  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  1 73 


When  lo  !  a  wasted  female  form, 

Blighted  by  wrath  of  sun  and  storm, 

In  tatter'd  weeds  and  wild  array,' 

Stood  on  a  cliff  beside  the  way, 

And  glancing  round  her  restless  eye, 

Upon  the  wood,  the  rock,  the  sky, 

Seem'd  nought  to  mark,  yet  all  to  spy. 

Her  brow  was  wreath'd  with  gaudy  broom  ; 

With  gesture  wild  she  waved  a  plume 

Of  feathers  which  the  eagles  fling 

To  crag  and  cliff  from  dusky  wing  ; 

Such  spoils  her  desperate  step  had  sought, 

Where  scarce  was  footing  for  the  goat. 

The  tartan  plaid  she  first  descried. 

And  shriek'd  till  all  the  rocks  replied  ; 

As  loud  she  laugh'd  when  near  they  drew. 

For  then  the  Lowland  garb  she  knew ; 

And  then  her  hands  she  wildly  wrung, 

And  then  she  wept,  and  then  she  sung  — 

She  sung  !  —  the  voice  in  better  time. 

Perchance  to  harp  or  lute  might  chime ; 

And  now  though  strain'd  and  roughen'd,  still 

Rung  wildly  sweet  to  dale  and  hill. 

XXII. 

SONG. 

They  bid  me  sleep,  they  bid  me  pray. 

They  say  my  brain  is  warp'd  and  wrung  — 

1  MS.  :  "  Wrapp'd  in  a  tatter'd  mantle  gray." 


1/4  i'm^  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.         [Canto  IV. 

1  cannot  sleep  dii  lli.L;hlancl  biac, 
I  cannot  pray  in  lliy,hlancl  tongue. 

Ikit  were  I  now  where  Allan  '  glides, 

Or  heard  my  native  Devan's  tides, 

So  sweetly  would  I  rest,  and  pray 

That  lieaven  would  close  my  wintry  day ! 

'Twas  thus  my  hair  they  bade  me  braid, 
They  bade  me  to  the  church  repair ; 

It  was  my  bridal  morn  they  said. 

And  my  true  love  would  meet  me  there. 

But  woe  betide  the  cruel  guile, 

That  drown'd  in  blood  the  morning  smile! 

Ant!  woe  betide  the  fairy  dream! 

I  only  waked  to  sob  and  scream. 

XXIII. 

"Who  is  this  maid.'  what  means  her  lay  ? 
She  hovers  o'er  the  hollow  way, 
And  flutters  wide  her  mantle  gray, 
As  the  lone  heron  spreads  his  wing, 
By  twilight,  o'er  a  haunted  spring."  — 
"'Tis  Blanche  of  Devan,"  Murtloch  said,^ 
"A  erased  and  captive  Lowland  maid, 
Ta'en  on  the  morn  she  was  a  bride. 
When  R(xlcrick  forav'd  Devan-side. 

'  The  Allan  and  Dcvan  arc  two  beautiful  streams,  the  latter 
cclebratetl  in  the  poetry  of  Hums,  which  dosienii  from  tlie  liiils  ot 
Perthshire  into  tlie  f^reat  carse  or  plain  r)f  Slirlin-,'. 

■^  Mb.  :   "  '  A  Saxon  born,  a  erazy  maid  — 

'Tis  IManehe  of  Devan.'  Murdoch  said." 


Canto  IV.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  1 75 

The  gay  bridegroom  resistance  made, 

And  felt  our  Chief's  unconquer'd  blade. 

I  marvel  she  is  now  at  large, 

But  oft  she  'scapes  from  Maudlin's  charge. — 

Hence,  brain-sick  fool!"  —  He  raised  his  bow:  — 

*'  Now,  if  thou  strikest  her  but  one  blow, 

I'll  pitch  thee  from  the  cliff  as  far 

As  ever  peasant  pitch'd  a  bar  !  "  — 

"Thanks,  champion,  thanks!"  the  Maniac  cried. 

And  press'd  her  to  Fitz-James's  side. 

"  See  the  gray  pennons  I  prepare,' 

To  seek  my  true-love  through  the  air  I 

I  will  not  lend  that  savage  groom,^ 

To  break  his  fall,  one  downy  plume ! 

No  !  —  deep  amid  disjointed  stones, 

The  wolves  shall  batten  on  his  bones, 

And  then  shall  his  detested  plaid, 

By  brush  and  brier  in  mid  air  staid, 

Wave  forth  a  banner  fair  and  free, 

Meet  signal  for  their  revelry."  — 

XXIV. 

"Hush  thee,  poor  maiden,  and  be  still!"  — 
O!  thou  look'st  kindly,  and  I  will.  — 

1  MS.  :  "With  thee  these  pennons  will  I  share, 

Then  seek  my  true  love  through  the  air." 

2  MS.  :  "  But  I'll  not  lend  that  savage  groom, 

To  hreak  his  fall  one  downy  plume! 
Deep,  deep  'mid  yon  disjointed  stones, 
The  wolf  shall  batten  on  his  bones." 


170  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.         [Canio  IV 

Mine  eye  has  iliied  and  wasted  been, 
But  still  it  loves  the  Lincoln  <;reen  ; 
And,  though  mine  ear  is  all  unstrung, 
Still,  still  it  loves  the  Lowland  tongue. 

"  For  O  my  sweet  William  was  forester  true,' 
He  stole  poor  Blanche's  heart  away ! 

His  coat  it  was  all  of  the  greenwood  hue,^ 
And  so  blithely  he  trill'd  the  Lowland  lay! 

"  It  was  not  tliat  I  meant  to  tell  .   .   . 
lUit  thou  ait  wise  and  gucssest  well."' 
Then,  in  a  low  anil  broken  tone, 
And  hurried  note,  the  song  went  on. 
.Still  on  the  Clansman,  fearfully, 
She  fixed  her  api)rehensivc  eye; 
Then  turn'd  it  on  the  Knight,  and  then 
Her  look  glanced  wildly  (j'er  the  glen. 

XXV. 

"The  toils  are  pitch'd,  and  the  stakes  are  set, 

r.ver  singing  merrily,  merrily  ; 
The  bows  they  bend,  and  the  knives  they  whet, 

Hunters  live  so  cheerily. 

'   MS.  :     •  Swcit  William  was  a  wonclMiiaii  true, 
1  k-  stole  p.ior  r.iaiKlic's  luarf  ;i\vav." 

2  M.S.  :   "  Ills  coat  was  of  the  forest  liu. 

And  sweet  he  sung  tlie  Lowland  lay." 


Canto  IV.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  1 77 

"It  was  a  stag",  a  stag  of  ten/ 

Bearing  its  branches  sturdily; 
He  came  stately  down  the  glen, 

Ever  sing  hardily,  hardily. 

"  It  was  there  he  met  with  a  wounded  doe, 

She  was  bleeding  deathfully  ; 
She  warn'd  him  of  the  toils  below, 

O,  so  faithfully,  faithfully ! 

"  He  had  an  eye,  and  he  could  heed, 

Ever  sing  warily,  warily  ; 
He  had  a  foot  and  he  could  speed  — 

Hunters  watch  so  narrowly."^ 


XXVI. 

Fitz- James's  mind  was  passion-toss'd, 
When  Ellen's  hints  and  fears  were  lost ; 
But  Murdoch's  shout  suspicion  wrought, 
And  Blanche's  song  conviction  brought.  — 
Not  like  a  stag  that  spies  the  snare. 
But  lion  of  the  hunt  aware. 
He  waved  at  once  his  blade  on  high. 
"Disclose  thy  treachery,  or  die!" 

^  Having  ten  branches  on  his  antlers. 

2  "  No  machinery  can  be  conceived  more  clumsy  for  effecting  the 
deliverance  of  a  distressed  hero,  than  the  introduction  of  a  mad 
woman,  who,  without  knowing  or  caring  about  the  wanderer,  warns 
him,  by  a  song-^  to  take  care  of  the  ambush  that  was  set  for  him.    The 


17'^  rin-:  lady  of  the  lake.       [canto  u 


l""()ilh  al  full  speed  the  Chinsnian  flew,' 

But  in  his  race  iiis  bow  he  drew. 

The  shaft  just  grazed  Fitz-Jamcs's  crest, 

Ami  thrill'd  in  l^lanche's  faded  breast.— 

Murdoch  of  Alpine  !  prove  thy  speed, 

For  ne'er  had  Alpine's  son  such  need  ! 

With  heart  of  fire,  and  foot  of  wind. 

The  fierce  avenger  is  behind  ! 

Fate  judges  of  the  rajiid  strife  — 

The  forfeit  death  —  the  prize  is  life! 

Thy  kindred  ambush  lies  before. 

Close  couch'd  upon  tlic  heathery  moor ; 

Them  couldst  thou  reach  !  —  it  may  not  be  —  ■■ 

Thine  ambush'd  kin  thou  ne'er  shall  see, 

The  fiery  Saxon  gains  on  thee! 

Resistless  speeds  the  deadly  thrust, 

As  lightning  strikes  the  pine  to  dust  ; 

With  foot  and  hand  Fitz-James  must  strain, 

V.XQ.  he  can  win  his  blade  again, 

maniacs  of  poetry  have  iiulocci  liail  a  prescriptive  rii(lit  to  be  musical, 
since  the  days  of  Ophelia  downwartls;  hut  it  is  raliier  a  rash  exten- 
sion of  this  privilege  to  make  them  sing  good  sense,  and  to  make 
sensible  people  be  guided  by  them." — Ji:fi"ri:y. 

'  MS.  :  "  Forth  at  full  speed  the  Clansman  went; 
But  in  his  race  his  bow  he  bent, 
Halted  —  and  back  an  arrow  sent." 

'  MS. "  It  may  not  be  — 

The  ficrv  Saxon  gains  on  thee. 
Thine  ambush'd  kin  thou  ne'er  slialt  see! 
Resistless  as  the  lightning's  flame. 
The  thrust  betwixt  bis  shoulder  came.  ' 


Canto  IV.]  THE   LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  I79 

Bent  o'er  the  fall'n,  with  falcon  eye/ 
He  grimly  smiled  to  see  him  die  : 
Then  slower  wended  back  his  way, 
Where  the  poor  maiden  bleeding  lay. 

XXVII. 

She  sate  beneath  the  birchen-tree, 
Her  elbow  resting  on  tier  knee  ; 
She  had  withdrawn  the  fatal  shaft, 
And  gazed  on  it,  and  feebly  laugh'd ; 
Her  wreath  of  broom  and  feathers  gray, 
Daggled  with  blood  beside  her  lay. 
The  Knight  to  stanch  the  life-stream  tried, 
"  Stranger,  it  is  in  vain  !  "  she  cried. 
"This  hour  of  death  has  given  me  more 
Of  reason's  power  than  years  before  ; 
For,  as  these  ebbing  veins  decay. 
My  frenzied  visions  fade  away. 
A  helpless  injured  wretch  I  die,^ 
And  something  tells  me  in  thine  eye, 
That  thou  wert  mine  avenger  born.  — 
Seest  thou  this  tress  }  —  O  !  still  I've  worn 
This  little  tress  of  yellow  hair. 
Through  danger,  frenzy,  and  despair  i 
It  once  was  bright  and  clear  as  thine, 
But  blood  and  tears  have  dimm'd  its  shine. 

'  MS.,:  "  Then  o'er  him  hung,  with  falcon  eje, 

And  grimly  smil'd  to  see  him  die." 
2  MS.  :  "  A  guiltless  injured  wretch  ||^ie." 


l8o  THE   LADY   OF    TlIE   LAKE.  [Canto  IV. 


1  will  nol  U-11  llu'c  wliL'u  'iwas  shrcii, 
Nor  lioin  uhiil  -uiltlcss  viclini's  head  — 
My  brain  would  turn  !  —  but  it  shall  wave  * 
Like  pluniai;e  on  thy  helmet  brave, 
Till  sun  and  wind  shall  bleach  the  stain, 
And  thou  wilt  brin;j;  it  me  ai;'ain. — 
I  waver  still.  —  O  (ioil  !  more  brij^ht 
Let  reascjn  beam  her  parting  light  !  — 
O  !  by  thy  knighthood's  honor'd  sign, 
^nd  for  thy  life  preserved  by  mine, 
When  thou  shalt  see  a  darksome  man, 
Who  boasts  him  Chief  of  Ali)ine's  clan, 
With  tartans  broad  and  shadowy  plume, 
And  hand  of  blood,  and  brow  of  gloom, 
Ik-  thv  heart  bold,  thy  weapon  strong. 
And  wreak  poor  Blanche  of   Devan's  wrong  — 
They  watch  for  thee  by  pass  and  fell  .   .   . 
Avoid  the  path   .    .    .    O  God  !  .   .   .   farewell." 

XXVITI. 

A  kindly  heart  had  brave  I'it/.-Jamcs  ; 
Fast  pour'd  his  eyes  at  pity's  claims, 
And  now  with  mingled  grief  and  ire, 
He  saw  the  murdered  maid  expire. 
"God,  in  my  need,  be  my  relief,^ 
As  I  wreak  this  on  yonder  Chief  I" 

1  MS. :  "  I'.iit  now,  my  champion,  —  it  shall  wave ." 
^M.*^.:  "Ciod  in  inv  nerd,  to  nic  he  trnc. 

h-<  I  wreak  this  on  KcnK  lirk  Dhu." 


CANTO  IV.]  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  iSl 


A  lock  from  Blanche's  tresses  fair 

He  blended  with  her  bridegroom's  hair ; 

The  mingled  braid  in  blood  he  dyed, 

And  placed  it  on  his  bonnet-side: 

"  By  Him  whose  word  is  truth  !  I  swear 

No  other  favor  will  I  wear. 

Till  this  sad  token  I  imbrue 

In  the  best  blood  of  Roderick  Dhu ! 

. —  But  hark !  what  means  yon  faint  halloo  ? 

The  chase  is  up,  —  but  they  shall  know, 

The  stag  at  bay's  a  dangerous  foe." 

Barr'd  from  the  known  but  guarded  way, 

Through  copse  and  cliff  Fitz-James  must  stray, 

And  oft  must  change  his  desperate  track, 

By  stream  and  precipice  turn'd  back. 

Heartless,  fatigued,  and  faint,  at  length, 

From  lack  of  food  and  loss  of  strength, 

He  couch' d  him  in  a  thicket  hoar, 

And  thought  his  toils  and  perils  o'er :  — 

"  Of  all  my  rash  adventures  past, 

This  frantic  feat  must  prove  the  last ! 

Who  e'er  so  mad  but  might  have  guess'd, 

That  all  this  Highland  hornet's  nest 

Would  muster  up  in  swarms  so  soon 

As  e'er  they  heard  of  bands  at  Doune.^  — 

Like  bloodhounds  now  they  search  me  out,  — 

Hark  to  the  whistle  and  the  shout !  — 

If  farther  through  the  wilds  I  go, 

I  only  fall  upon  the  foe  ; 


l82  THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.         [Canto  IV 


I'll  couch  mc  here  till  evening  gray, 
Then  darkling  try  my  dangerous  wa)-." 

XXIX. 

The  shades  of  eve  come  slowly  down, 

The  woods  are  wrapt  in  deeper  brown, 

The  owl  awakens  from  her  dell. 

The  fox  is  heard  upon  the  fell ; 

Enough  remains  of  glimmering  light 

To  guide  the  wanderer's  steps  aright. 

Yet  not  enough  from  far  to  show 

His  figure  to  the  watchful  foe. 

With  cautious  step,  and  ear  awake, 

He  climbs  the  crag  and  threads  the  brake ; 

And  not  the  summer  solstice,  there, 

Temper'd  the  midnight  mountain  air. 

But  every  breeze,  that  swept  the  wold, 

Benumb'd  his  drenched  limbs  with  cold. 

In  dread,  in  danger,  and  alone, 

Famish'd  and  chill'd,  through  ways  unknown, 

Tangled  and  steep,  he  journey'd  on  ; 

Till,  as  the  rock's  huge  point  he  turn'd, 

A  watch-fire  close  before  him  burn'd. 

XXX. 

Beside  its  embers  red  and  clear,' 
Bask'd,  in  his  plaid,  a  mountaineer ; 

'  MS.  :  "  By  the  decaying  flame  was  laid 

A  warrior  in  his  Highland  plaid." 


CANTO  iv.j         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE  1 83 


And  up  he  sprung  with  sword  in  hand,  - 

"Thy  name  and  purpose  !  Saxon,  stand  !  "  — 

"  A  stranger."  —  "  What  dost  thou  require  ? "  — 

"  Rest  and  a  guide,  and  food  and  fire. 

My  life's  beset,  my  path  is  lost, 

The  gale  has  chill'd  my  limbs  with  frost."  — 

"  Art  thou  a  friend  to  Roderick  .?  "  —  "  No."  — 

"  Thou  darest  not  call  thyself  a  foe  ? "  — 

"  I  dare  !  to  him  and  all  his  band  ' 

He  brings  to  aid  his  murderous  hand."  — 

"  Bold  words !  —  but,  though  the  beast  of  game 

The  privilege  of  chase  may  claim. 

Though  space  and  law  the  stag  we  lend, 

Ere  hound  we  slip,  or  bow  we  bend. 

Who  ever  reck'd,  where,  how,  or  when. 

The  prowling  fox  was  trapp'd  or  slain }  ^ 

Thus  treacherous  scouts,  —  yet  sure  they  lie, 

Who  say  thou  camest  a  secret  spy ! " 

"  They  do,  by  heaven  !  —  Come  Roderick  Dhu, 

And  of  his  clan  the  boldest  two, 


1  MS.  :  "  I  dare!  to  him  and  all  the  swarm 

He  hrings  to  aid  his  murderous  arm." 

^  St.  John  actually  used  this  illustration  when  engaged  in  con- 
futing the  plea  of  law  proposed  for  tlie  unfortunate  Earl  of  Strafford  : 
"  It  was  true  we  gave  laws  to  hares  and  deer,  because  they  are  beasts 
of  chase;  but  it  was  never  accounted  either  cruelty  or  foul  play  to 
knock  foxes  or  wolves  on  the  head  as  they  can  be  found,  because 
they  are  beasts  of  prey.  In  a  word,  the  law  and  humanity  were  alike ; 
the  one  being  more  fallacious,  and  the  other  more  barbarous,  than 
in  any  age  had  been  vented  in  such  an  authority." — Clarendon's 
History  of  the  Rebellion.     Oxford,  1702,  fol.  vol.,  p.  1S3. 


1 84  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  [Canto  iv 

And  let  nic  but  till  moniin!:;  rest, 

I  write  the  falsehood  on  their  crest."  — 

"  If  by  the  blaze  I  mark  aright, 

Thou  bear'st  the  belt  and  spur  of  Knii;ht." 

"  Then  by  these  tokens  mayest  thou  know 

Each  proud  oppressor's  mortal  foe."  — 

"  I'jiough,  enough  ;  sit  down  and  share 

A  soldier's  couch,  a  .soldier's  fare." 

XXXI. 

He  gave  liim  of  his  Highland  cheer. 
The  harden'd  flesh  of  mountain  deer  ; ' 

1  Tlic  Scottish  Ilisrhlanders,  in  fonncr  times,  had  a  concise  iiiotie 
of  cookinj?  their  venison,  or  ratlier  of  ciispensini,'  witli  cookini,'  it, 
wliich  appears  <,'reatly  to  iiavc  surprised  tiie  French  wlioni  chance 
made  acquainted  witii  it.  Tiie  \'idaine  ot"  Cliarters,  wiien  a  hostage 
in  England,  during  the  reign  of  Edward  \\..  was  permitted  to  travel 
into  Scotland,  and  penetrated  as  far  as  the  remote  Highlands  {aii  fin 
fond  dcs  Sa/tz'ajrcs).  After  a  great  hunting  partv.  at  which  a  most 
wonderful  cpiantitv  of  game  was  destroyed,  he  saw  these  Scottish 
savages  devour  n  part  of  their  venison  raw,  without  any  further 
preparation  than  compressing  it  hetween  two  hatons  of  wood,  so  as 
to  force  out  the  hlood,  and  render  it  extremely  hard.  This  they 
reckoned  a  great  delicacy;  ami  when  the  \'iiiame  partook  of  it,  his 
compliance  with  their  taste  rendered  him  extiemely  iio)iular.  This 
curious  trait  of  manners  was  communicated  hy  Mons.  de  Mont- 
morency, a  great  friend  of  the  \'idame,  to  IJrantome,  hy  whom  it  is 
recorde<l  in  \'ics  <irs  Ilomtncs  Iltiistrni,  Discoiirs,  Ixxxix.  art.  14. 
The  process  by  which  the  raw  venison  was  rendered  eatable  is 
described  very  minutely  in  the  romance  of  Perceforest,  where 
Estonne.  a  Scottish  knight-errant,  having  slain  a  ileer.  says  to  his 
companion  Claudius  :  "  Sire,  or  inaTigerez  vous  et  moy  aussi.  Voire 
si  nous  anions  de  feu.  (lit  Claudius.  Par  Tame  de  mon  pere.  dist 
Estonne,  ie  vous  atourneray  et  cuiray  a  la  maniere  de  nostre  pays 


Canto  IV.]         THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  1 85 

Dry  fuel  on  the  fire  he  laid, 
And  bade  the  Saxon  share  his  plaid. 
He  tended  him  like  welcome  guest, 
Then  thus  his  further  speech  address'd. 
"  Stranger,  I  am  to  Roderick  Dhu 
A  clansman  born,  a  kinsman  true ; 
Each  word  against  his  honor  spoke, 
Demands  of  me  avenging  stroke  ; 
Yet  more,  —  upon  thy  fate,  'tis  said, 
A  mighty  augury  is  laid. 

coinme  pour  cheualier  errant.  Lors  tira  son  espee,  et  sen  vint 
a  la  branche  dung  aibre,  et  y  fait  vng  grant  trou,  et  puis  fend  la 
branche  bien  dieux  piedx,  et  boute  la  cuisse  du  cerf  entredeux,  et 
puis  prent  le  licol  de  son  cheval,  et  en  Ije  la  branche,  et  destraint  si 
fort,  que  le  sang  et  les  humeurs  de  la  chair  saillent  hors,  et  demeure 
la  chaire  doulce  et  seiche.  Lors  prent  la  chair,  et  oste  ius  le  cuir,  et 
la  chaire  demeure  aussi  blanche  comme  si  ce  feust  dung  chappon. 
Dont  dist  a  Claudius,  Sire,  ie  la  vous  ay  cuiste  a  la  guise  de  mon 
pays,  vous  ens  pouez  manger  hardjement,  car  ie  mangeray  premier. 
Lors  met  sa  main  a  sa  selle  en  vng  lieu  quil  y  auoit,  et  tire  hors  sel 
et  poudre  de  poiure  et  gingembre,  mesle  ensemble,  et  le  iecte  dessus, 
et  le  frote  sus  bien  fort,  puis  le  couppe  a  moytie  et  en  donne  a 
Claudius  I'une  des  pieces,  et  puis  mort  en  I'autre  aussi  sauourese- 
ment  quil  est  aduis  que  il  en  feist  la  pouldre  voller.  Qiiant  Claudius 
veit  quil  le  mangeoit  de  tel  goust,  il  en  print  grant  faim,  et  com- 
mence a  manger,  tresvoulentiers,  et  dist  a  Estonne  :  Par  I'ame  de 
moy,  ie  ne  mangeay  oncquesmais  de  chair  atournee  de  tell  guise: 
mais  doresenauant  ie  ne  me  retourneroye  pas  hors  de  mon  chemin 
par  auoir  la  cuite.  Sire,  dist  Estonne,  quant  is  suis  en  desers 
d'Escosse,  dont  ie  suis  seigneur,  ie  cheuaucheray  huit  iours  ou  quinze 
que  ie  d'entreray  en  chastel  ne  en  maison,  et  si  ne  verray  feu  ne 
personne  viuant  fors  que  bestes  sauuages,  et  de  celles  mangeray 
atournees  en  ceste  maniere,  et  mieulx  me  plaira  que  la  viande  de 
Fempereur.  Ainsi  sen  vont  mangeant  et  cheuauchant  iusques  adonc 
quilz  arriuerent  sur  une  moult  belle  fontaine  que  estoit  en  vne  valee. 


i86  Tifi'.  I. Any  of  the  lake.      [cam.,  iv. 


It  rests  with  mc  to  wind  my  horn,  — 

Thou  art  with  numbers  overborne: 

It  rests  with  me,  here,  brand  to  brand, 

Worn  as  thou  art,  to  bid  thee  stand  : 

But,  not  for  clan,  nor  kindred's  cause, 

Will  I  depart  from  honor's  laws ; 

To  assail  a  wearied  man  were  shame. 

And  stranger  is  a  holy  name ; 

Guidance  and  rest,  and  food  and  fire 

In  vain  he  never  must  require. 

Then  rest  thee  here  till  dawn  of  day ; 

Myself  will  guide  thee  on  the  way. 

O'er  stock  and  stone,  through  watch  and  ward. 

Till  past  Clan-Alpine's  outmost  guard, 

As  far  as  Coilantogle's  ford  ; 

From  thence  thy  warrant  is  thy  sword."  — 

"  I  take  thy  courtesy,  by  Heaven, 

As  freely  as  'tis  nobly  given  !  "  — 

"  Well,  rest  thee ;  for  the  bittern's  cry 

Sings  us  the  lake's  wild  lullaby." 

With  that  he  shook  the  gathcr'd  heath. 

And  spread  his  plaid  upon  the  wreath  ; 

C^iixnt  Estonne  la  vit  il  dist  a  Claudius,  aliens  boirc  a  ccste  fontaine. 
Or  bcuuons,  dist  Estonne,  du  boirc  que  Ic  tyrant  dicu  a  pourueu  a 
loutcs  pens,  ft  que  me  plaist  iniculx  que  les  ccruoises  d'Ani^lcterre." 
--  I, a  Tra^rlci^antr  I/vs/oirr  dn  frrsi/nhfi-  A'ov  Piicifnrrst.  Paris, 
1531,  fol.  tome  i.  fol.  Iv.  vers. 

After  all.  it  mav  be  doubted  wiietlicr  la  rhain  nos/rrr,  for  so  tbe 
Frencb  called  tbe  venison  tlius  summarilv  prepared,  was  anything 
more  than  a  mere  rude  kind  of  deer-ham. 


Canto  IV.]         THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  1 87 

And  the  brave  foemen,  side  by  side, 
Lay  peaceful  down  like  brothers  tried, 
And  slept  until  the  dawning  beam  ^ 
Purpled  the  mountain  and  the  stream. 

^MS. :  "And  slept  until  the  dawning  streak 

Purpled  the  mountain  and  the  lake." 


CANTO    FIFTH. 

THE    COMBAT. 

I. 

Fair  as  the  earliest  beam  of  eastern  light, 

When  first,  In*  the  bevvilder'd  [)ily;rim  spied 
It  smiles  ujxjn  the  drear)'  brow  of   night. 

And  silvers  o'er  the  torrent's  foaming  tide, 
And  lights  the  fearful  path  on  mountain  side  ;  —  * 

Fair  as  that  beam,  although  the  fairest  far, 
Giving  to  horror  grace,  to  danger  pride, 

Shine  martial  h'ailh,  and  Courtesy's  bright  star, 
Througii  all  the  wreckful  storms  that  clout!  the  brow  of 
War. 

TI. 

That  early  beam,  so  fair  and  sheen, 
Was  twinkling  through  the  hazel  screen, 
When,  rousing  at  its  glimmer  red. 
The  warriors  left  their  lowlv  bed, 
Look'd  out  u])on  the  dajipled  sky, 
Mutter'd  their  soldier  matins  by. 
And  then  awaked  their  fire,  to  steal. 
As  short  and  rude,  tluir  soldier  meal. 

1   MS:    "And  lights  llic  fearful  w.ny  along  ils  side."  t 


Canto  V.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  l8g 


That  o'er,  the  Gael '  around  him- threw 
His  graceful  plaid  of  varied  hue, 
And  true  to  promise,  led  the  way, 
By  thicket  green  and  mountain  gray. 
A  wildering  path  !  —  they  winded  now 
Along  the  precipice's  brow. 
Commanding  the  rich  scenes  beneath, 
The  windings  of  the  Forth  and  Teith, 
And  all  the  vales  between  that  lie, 
Till  Stirling's  turrets  melt  in  sky; 
Then,  sunk  in  copse,  their  farthest  glance 
Gain'd  not  the  length  of  horseman's  lance. 
'Twas  oft  so  steep,  the  foot  was  fain 
Assistance  from  the  hand  to  gain  ; 
So  tangled  oft,  that  bursting  through, 
Each  hawthorn  shed  her  showers  of  dew,  — 
That  diamond  dew,  so  pure  and  clear, 
It  rivals  all  but  Beauty's  tear 

III. 

At  length  they  came  where  stern  and  steep,^ 

The  hill  sinks  down  upon  the  deep. 

Here  Vennachar  in  silver  flows. 

There,  ridge  on  ridge,  Benledi  rose ; 

Ever  the  hollow  path  twined  on. 

Beneath  steep  bank  and  threatening  stone ; 

1  The  Scottish  Highlander  calls  himself  Gael,  or  Gaul,  and  terms 
the  Lowlandcrs,  SassoiacJi ,  or  Saxons. 

"  MS.  ••   "  At  length  thej  paced  the  mountain's  side, 
And  saw  beneath  the  waters  wide  " 


igo  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  [Canto  V. 

An  luiiulicJ  men  nii-liL  liolil  the  post 
With  hardihood  against  a  host. 
The  rugged  mountain's  scanty  cloak 
Was  dwarfish  slirubs  of  birch  and  oak.' 
With  shingles  bare,  and  cliffs  between, 
And  patches  bright  of  bracken  green, 
And  heather  black,  that  waved  so  high, 
It  held  the  copse  in  rixalry. 
But  where  the  lake  slept  decj:)  and  still, 
Dank  osiers  fringed  the  swanip  and  hill; 
And  oft  both  path  and  hill  were  torn, 
Whce  wintry  torrents  down  had  borne, 
And  heap'd  upon  the  cuniber'd  land 
Its  wreck  of  gravel,  rocks,  and  sand. 
So  toilsome  was  the  road  to  trace, 
The  guide  abating  of  his  pace, 
Led  slowly  through  the  pass's  jaws. 
And  ask'd  h^itz-James  by  what  strange  cause 
He  sought  these  wilds,  traversed  by  few, 
Without  a  pass  from  Roderick  Dhu. 

IV. 
"Brave  Gael,  my  pass  in  danger  tried, 
Hangs  in  my  belt,  and  by  my  side; 
Yet,  sooth  to  tell,"  the  Saxon  said, 
"I  dreamt  not  now  to  claim  its  aid.* 

'  MS.  :   "  The  rufiycd  moiinfaiii's  slmitecl  screen 

Was  (Kvarfisli  •'  ""'""''^  "j.  wiU,  ,-lin"s  between.' 
I   copse    • 

'  Mb.  :  "1  dreamed  not  now  to  draw  \ny  blade." 


Canto  V.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  IQI 

When  here,  but  three  days  since,  I  came, 
Bewilder'd  in  pursuit  of  game. 
All  scem'd  as  peaceful  and  as  still, 
As  the  mist  slumbering  on  yon  hill ; 
Thy  dangerous  chief  was  then  afar. 
Nor  soon  expected  back  from  war. 
Thus  said,  at  least,  my  mountain-guide. 
Though  deep  perchance  the  villain  lied." 
"Yet  why  a  second  venture  try?  "  — 
"  A  warrior  thou,  and  ask  me  why  !  — 
Moves  our  free  course  by  such  fix'd  cause 
As  gives  the  poor  mechanic  laws  ? 
Enough,  I  sought  to  drive  away 
The  lazy  hours  of  peaceful  day ; 
Slight  cause  will  then  suffice  to  guide 
A  Knight's  free  footsteps  far  and  wide, — ^ 
A  falcon  flown,  a  greyhound  stray'd. 
The  merry  glance  of  mountain  maid  : 
Or,  if  a  path  be  dangerous  known, 
The  danger's  self  is  lure  alone." 


V. 

"Thy  secret  keep,  I  urge  thee  not ;  — ^ 
Yet,  ere  again  ye  sought  this  spot. 
Say,  heard  ye  not  of  Lowland  war. 
Against  Clan-Alpine,  rais'd  by  Mar?" 

IMS.:  "My  errant  footsteps  }  far  and  wide." 

A  knight  s  bold  wanderings    \ 

2  MS. :  "  Thy  secret  keep,  I  ask  it  not." 


192  THE  LADY  OF    THE    LAKE.  [Canto  V 


—  "  No,  by  my  word  ;  —  of  bands  prepared 
To  guard  King  James's  sports  I  heard  ; 
Nor  doubt  I  aught,  but,  when  they  hear 
This  muster  of  the  mountaineer, 
Their  pennons  will  abroad  be  flung, 
Which  else  in  Doune  had  peaceful  hung." — 
"  1' rce  be  they  flung  !  for  we  were  loth 
Their  silken  fold  should  feast  the  moth. 
Free  be  they  flung  !. —  as  free  shall  wave 
Clan-Alpine's  pine  in  banner  brave. 
But,  Stranger,  peaceful  since  you  canu-, 
Bewilder'd  in  the  mountain  game. 
Whence  the  bold  boast  by  which  you  show 
Vich  Alpine's  vow'd  and  mortal  foe  ?  "  — 
"  Warrior,  but  yester-morn,  I  knew 
Nought  of  thy  Chieftain,  Roderick  Dim, 
Save  as  an  outlaw'd  desperate  man. 
The  chief  of  a  rebellious  clan. 
Who  in  the  Regent's  court  and  sight, 
With  ruffian  dagger  stabb'd  a  knight  ; 
Yet  this  alone  might  from  his  part 
Sever  each  true  and  loyal  heart." 

YI. 

Wrathful  at  such  arraignment  foul, 
Dark  lower'd  the  clansman's  sable  scowl. 
A  space  he  jiauscd,  then  sternly  said, 
"And  heard'st  thou  why  he  drew  his  blade  .^ 

'   MS.:   '•  Wliitli  else  in  //r/// liad  jKMCcfiil  iMin;^." 


Canto  V]  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  195 


Heard'st  thou  that  shameful  word  and  blow 
Brought  Roderick's  vengeance  on  his  foe  ? 
What  reck'd  the  Chieftain  if  he  stood 
On  Highland  heath,  or  Holy-Rood  ? 
He  rights  such  wrong  where  it  is  given, 
If  it  were  in  the  court  of  heaven."  — 
"  Still  was  it  outrage  ;  —  yet,  'tis  true, 
Not  then  claim'd  sovereignty  his  due ; 
While  Albany,  with  feeble  hand. 
Held  borrow'd  truncheon  of  command, 
The  young  King  mew'd  in  Stirling  tower, 
Was  stranger  to  respect  and  power.' 
But  then,  thy  Chieftain's  robber  life !  — 
Winning  mean  prey  by  causeless  strife, 
Wrenching  from  ruin'd  Lowland  swain 
His  herds  and  harvest  rear'd  in  vain.  — - 
Methinks  a  soul  like  thine  should  scorn 
The  spoils  from  such  foul  foray  borne." 

1  There  is  scarcely  a  more  disorderly  period  in  Scottish  history 
than  that  which  succeeded  the  battle  of  Flodden,  and  occupied  the 
minority  of  James  V.  Feuds  of  ancient  standing  broke  out  like  old 
wounds,  and  every  quarrel  among  the  independent  nobility,  which 
occurred  daily,  and  almost  hourly,  gave  rise  to  fresh  bloodshed. 
"There  arose,"  says  Pitscottie,  "great  trouble  and  deadly  feuds  in 
many  parts  of  Scotland,  both  in  the  north  and  west  parts.  The 
Master  of  Forbes,  in  the  nortli,  sIcav  the  Laird  of  Meldrum,  under 
tryst;"  (i-  e-  af  an  agreed  and  secure  meeting:')  "Likewise,  the 
Laird  of  Drummelzier  slew  the  Lord  Fleming  at  the  hawking;  and, 
likewise  there  was  slaughter  among  many  other  great  lords."  P.  121. 
Nor  was  the  matter  much  mended  under  the  government  of  the  Earl 
of  Angus:  for  though  he  caused  the  King  to  ride  through  all  Scot- 
land, "under  the  pretence  and  color  of  justice,  to  punish  thief  and 
traitor,  none  were  found  greater  than  were  in  their  own  company; 


194  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  TCanto  v 


vir. 

The  Gael  beheld  him  ^rim  the  while, 
And  answered  with  disdainful  smile,  — 
"  Saxon,  from  yonder  mountain  high, 
I  mark'd  thee  send  delighted  eye, 
Far  to  the  south  and  east,  where  lay, 
Extended  in  succession  gay, 
Deep  waving  fields  and  pastures  green, 
With  gentle  slopes  and  groves  between  :  — 
These  fertile  plains,  that  soften'd  vale, 
Were  once  the  birthright  of  the  Gael ; 
The  stranger  came  with  iron  hand. 
And  from  our  fathers  reft  the  land. 
Where  dwell  we  now  !    See  rudely  swell 
Crag  over  crag,  and  fell  o'er  fell. 
Ask  we  this  savage  hill  we  tread, 
For  fatten'd  steer  or  household  bread  ; 
Ask  we  for  flocks  these  shingles  dry. 
And  well  the  mountain  might  reply,  — 
'  To  you,  as  to  your  sires  of  yore, 
Belong  the  target  and  claymore ! 
I  give  you  shelter  in  my  breast. 
Your  own  good  blades  must  win  the  rest.' 


and  njnc  at  that  lime  durst  strive  with  a  Douglas,  nor  yet  a  Douglas's 
man;  for  if  they  would,  they  got  the  worst.  Therefore,  none  durst 
plainzie  of  no  extortion,  tlioft,  reiff.  nor  slaui;hter,  done  to  thrni  l)v 
the  Douijlasscs,  or  tlu-ir  men;  in  that  cause  they  were  not  heard  so 
lony  as  tiie  Douglas  had  the  court  in  guiding." —  Ibid.  p.  133. 


Canto  V.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  195 


Pent  in  this  fortress  of  the  North, 

Think'st  thou  we  will  not  sally  forth, 

To  spoil  the  spoiler  as  we  may, 

And  from  the  robber  rend  the  prey  ? 

Ay,  by  my  soul !  —  While  on  yon  plain 

The  Saxon  rears  one  shock  of  grain  ; 

While,  of  ten  thousand  herds,  there  strays 

But  one  along  yon  river's  maze,  — 

The  Gael,  of  plain  and  river  heir. 

Shall,  with  strong  hand,  redeem  his  share. 

Where  live  the  mountain  Chiefs  who  hold, 

That  plundering  Lowland  field  and  fold 

Is  aught  but  retribution  true  ? 

Seek  other  cause  'eainst  Roderick  Dhu."  —  ' 

*  The  ancient  Highlanders  verified  in  their  practice  the  lines  of 

Gray  :  — 

"An  iron  race  the  mountain  cliffs  maintain, 
Foes  to  the  gentler  genius  of  the  phiin ; 
For  where  unwearied  sinews  must  be  found, 
With  side-long  plough  to  quell  the  flinty  ground; 
To  turn  tlie  torrent's  swift  descending  flood; 
To  tame  the  savage  rushing  from  the  wood; 
What  wonder  if,  to  patient  valor  train'd, 
They  guard  with  spirit  what  Ijy  strength  they  gain'd  : 
And  while  their  rocky  ramparts  round  they  see 
The  rough  abode  of  want  and  liberty, 
(As  lawless  force  from  confidence  will  grow). 
Insult  the  plenty  of  the  vales  below  ?  " 

Fragment  on  the  Alliance  of  Education 
and  Government, 

So  far,  indeed,  was  a  Creagh,  or  foray,  from  being  held  disgrace- 
ful, that  a  young  chief  was  always  expected  to  show  his  talents  foi 
command  sc  soon  as  he  assumed  it,  by  leading  his  clan  on  a  suc- 
cessful enterprise  of  tliis  nature,  either  against  a  neighboring  sept, 
for  which  constant  feuds  usually  furnished  an  apology,  or  against 
the  Sassenach,  Saxons,  or  Lowlanders.  for  which  no  apology  was 
necessary.  The  Gael,  great  traditional  historians,  never  forgot  that 
the  Lowlands  had,  at  some  remote  period,  been  the  property  of 


l()G  Till-:   L.inV  OF    THE  LAKE.  [Canto  v. 

Vlli. 

Answer'd  Fitz-James,  —  "  And,  if  I  soui^ht, 

Think'st  thou  no  other  could  be  brought  ? 

What  deem  yc  of  my  path  waylaid  ? 

My  life  given  o'er  to  ambuscade  ?  "  — 

"As  of  a  meed  to  rashness  due  : 

Hadst  thou  sent  warning  fair  and  true, — 

I  seek  my  hound,  or  falcon  stray'd, 

I  seek,  good  faith,  a  Highland  maid, — 

Frte  hadst  thou  been  to  come  and  go, 

P)Ut  secret  path  marks  secret  foe. 

Nor  yet,  for  this,  even  as  a  spy, 

Hadst  thou,  unheard,  been  doom'd  to  die, 

Save  to  ful fd  an  augury."  — 

"  Well,  let  it  pass  ;  nor  will  I  now 

Fresh  cause  of  enmity  avow, 

To  chafe  thy  mood  and  cloud  thy  brow. 

Enough,  I  am  by  promi.se  tied 

To  match  me  with  this  man  r)f  pride  : 

Twice  have  I  sought  Clan-AljMne's  glen 

In  pence ;  but  when  I  come  agen, 

their  Celtic  foicfathfrs.  wliiili  fiirnislicd  an  ample  vin.lication  of  all 
the  ravat(cs  that  tliey  could  make  on  the  unfortunate  districts  which 
lav  within  their  rcacii.  Sir  James  CJrant  of  fJrant  is  in  possession  of 
a  letter  of  apoloi,'v  from  Cameron  of  Lochiel.  whose  men  had  com- 
mitlpcl  some  depredation  upon  a  farm  called  Moines,  occupied  by 
one  of  tiie  Grants.  Lochiel  assures  CJranl.  th.it.  liowever  the  mis- 
take had  happened,  his  instructions  were  precise,  that  the  party 
i^liould  forav  the  province  of  Morav  Ca  Lowland  district;,  where,  as 
he  coolly  observes,  "  all  men  take  their  prey." 


Canto  V.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  197 


I  come  with  banner,  brand,  and  bow. 

As  leader  seeks  his  mortal  foe. 

For  love-lorn  swain,  in  lady's  bower, 

Ne'er  panted  for  the  appointed  hour, 

As  I,  until  before  me  stand 

This  rebel  Chieftain  and  his  band  !  "  ' 

IX. 

"  Have,  then,  thy  wish  !  "  — he  whistled  shrill, 

And  he  was  answer'd  from  1:be  hill ; 

Wild  as  the  scream  of  the  curiew, 

From  crag  to  crag  the  signal  flew.^ 

Instant,  through  copse  and  heath,  arose 

Bonnets  and  spears  and  bended  bows  : 

On  right,  on  left,  above,  below, 

Sprung  up  at  once  the  lurking  foe  ; 

From  shingles  gray  their  lances  start, 

The  bracken  brush  sends  forth  the  dart,' 

The  rushes  and  the  willow-wand 

Are  biistling  into  axe  and  brand, 

And  every  tuft  of  broom  gives  life  '^ 

To  plaided  warrior  arm'd  for  strife. 

1  MS.  :   "  This  dark  Sir  Roderick  |  ^^^  ^^^  ^^^^j,,. 

Tliis  savage  Chieftain    J 

2  MS.  :  "  From  copse  to  cofsc  the  signal  flew. 

Instant,  through  copse  and  crags  arose." 
^  MS.  :  "The  bracken  bush  shoots  forth  the  dart." 
■*  MS.  :  "  And  each  lone  tuft  of  broom  gives  life 

To  plaided  warrior  arm'd  for  strife. 

That  whistle  manned  ilic  lonely  glen 

With  full  five  hundred  armed  me?i." 


Iq8  the  lady  of   the  lake.  [Canto  v. 

That  wliistle  garrison'd  the  glen 

At  once  with  full  five  hundred  men, 

As  if  the  yawning  hill  to  heaven 

A  subterranean  host  had  given.' 

Watching  their  leader's  beck  and  \<\\\^ 

As  silent  there  they  stood,  and  still. 

Like  the  loose  crags  whose  threaten.inir  mass 

Lay  tottering  o'er  the  hollow  pass, 

As  if  an  infant's  touch  could  urge 

Their  headlong  passage  down  the  verge, 

With  step  and  weapon  forward  flung. 

Upon  the  mountain-side  they  hung. 

The  Mountaineer  cast  glance  of  pride 

Along  Benledi's  living  side, 


'  Tlie  Monthly  Review  says  — "  \Vc  now  come  to  tlic  clnf- 
d'tLitvrc  of  Wiilter  Scott, — a  scene  of  more  vigour,  nature,  and 
animation,  tlian  anv  other  in  all  Iiis  poetry."  Anollier  anony- 
mous critic  of  tlie  poem  is  not  afraid  to  quote,  with  reference  to 
the  efl'cct  of  tiiis  passage,  the  sublime  language  of  the  Prophet 
Ezekiel  : — '"Then  said  he  imto  me,  Prophesy  imto  the  winil, 
prophesy,  .son  of  man,  and  say  to  the  wiiui.  Thus  sai'h  the  Lord 
God;  Come  from  the  four  winds,  O  breath,  and  breathe  ui>on 
these  slain,  that  they  may  live.  So  I  prophesied  as  he  com- 
manded mc,  and  the  breath  came  into  them,  anil  they  lived,  and 
stood  up  upon  their  feet,  an  exceeding  great  arujy."  —  Chap, 
xxx.ii,  V.  9,   10. 

=*  MS.  :  "All  silent,  /-;<;,  they  stood,  and  still. 

Watcliing  their  leader's  heck  and  will. 
While  forward  step  and  weapon  show 
They  long  to  rush  upon  the  foe. 
Like  the  loose  crag,  whose  tottering  mass 
Hung  threatening  o'er  the  holhnv  pass." 


Canto  V.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  T99 

Then  fix'd  his  eye  and  sable  brow 
Full  on  Fitz-James —  How  say'st  thou  now? 
These  are  Clan-Alpine's  warriors  true  ; 
And,  Saxon,  —  I  am  Roderick  Dhu !  " 


X. 

Fitz-James  was  brave  :  —  Though  to  his  heart 
The  life-blood  thrill'd  with  sudden  start, 
He  mann'd  himself  with  dauntless  air, 
Return'd  the  Chief  his  haughty  stare, 
His  back  against  a  rock  he  bore. 
And  firmly  placed  his  foot  before  :  — 
"  Come  one,  come  all !  this  rock  shall  fly 
From  its  firm  base  as  soon  as  I." 
Sir  Roderick  mark'd  —  and  in  his  eyes 
Respect  was  mingled  with  surprise. 
And  the  stern  joy  which  warriors  feel 
In  foemen  worthy  of  their  steel. 
Short  space  he  stood  —  then  waved  his  hand  j 
Down  sunk  the  disappearing  band  ; 
Each  warrior  vanish'd  where  he  stood, 
In  broom  or  bracken,  heath  or  wood  ; 
Sunk  brand  and  spear  and  bended  bow. 
In  osiers  pale  and  copses  low 
It  seem'd  as  if  their  mother  Earth 
Had  swallow'd  up  her  warlike  birth. 
The  wind's  last  breath  had  toss'd  in  air, 
Pennon,  and  plaid,  and  plumage  fair, — ■ 


200  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  [Canto  A- 

The  next  but  swept  a  lone  hill-sitle, 

Where  heath  and  fern  were  wavin<^  wide  ; 

The  sun's  last  jjjlance  was  glinted  back, 

From  spear  and  glaive,  from  targe  and  jack,  — 

The  next,  all  unreflected,  shone 

On  bracken  green,  and  cold  gray  stone. 


XI. 

Fitz  James  look'd  round — yet  scarce  believed 

The  witness  that  his  sight  received  ; 

Such  apparition  well  might  seem 

Delusion  of  a  dreadful  dream. 

Sir  Roderick  in  suspense  he  eyed, 

And  to  his  look  the  Chief  replied. 

"  Fear  nought  —  nay,  that  I  need  not  say  — 

l^ut  —  doubt  not  aught  from  mine  array. 

Thou  art  my  guest  ; —  I  i)le(.lged  my  u'ord 

As  far  as  Coilantogle  ford  : 

Nor  would  I  call  a  clansman's  brand 

I'or  aid  against  one  valiant  hand,' 

Though  on  our  strife  lay  every  vale 

Rent  by  the  Saxon  from  the  Gael.* 

'  MS.  :  "  For  aid  aijainst  one  hravr  man's  liand." 
2  '•  Tliis  scone  is  cxccllcntlv  described.  'J'lie  frankness  and  \wj}\- 
soulcd  couratje  of  the  two  warriors, —  the  reliance  wliich  the  Low- 
lander  places  on  the  word  of  tlie  1  litjhlander  to  }juide  him  safelv  on  his 
way  the  next  mornin'^,  altlif)iii,'h  lie  has  spoken  threatenint?  and 
violent  words  ai^ainsl  Roderick,  whose  kinsman  the  nioimtainccr 
professes  hitnscif  fo  be, — these  circumstances  are  all  admirably 
imagined  and  related." —  Monthly  /ici'iciv 


Canto  V.]  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE,  201 


So  move  we  on  ;  —  I  only  meant 
To  show  the  reed  on  which  you  leant, 
Deeming  this  path  you  might  pursue 
Without  a  pass  from  Roderick  Dhu."' 

1  This  incident,  like  some  other  passages  in  the  poem,  illustra 
tive  of  the  character  of  the  ancient  Gael,  is  not  imaginary,  but 
borrowed  from  fact.  The  Highlanders,  with  the  inconsistency  of 
most  nations  'in  the  same  state,  were  alternately  capable  of  great 
exertions  of  generosity,  and  of  cruel  revenge  and  perfidy.  The 
following  story  I  can  only  quote  from  tradition,  but  with  sucii 
an  assurance  from  those  by  whom  it  was  communicated,  as  per- 
mits me  little  doubt  of  its  authenticity.  Early  in  the  last  cen- 
tury, John  Gunn,  a  noted  Cateran,  or  Highland  robber,  infested 
Inverness-shire,  and  levied  black-mail  up  to  the  walls  of  the  pro- 
vincial capital.  A  garrison  was  then  maintained  in  the  castle 
of  that  town,  and  their  pay  (country  banks  being  unknown)  was 
usually  transmitted  in  specie,  under  the  guard  of  a  small  escort.  Ii 
chanced  that  the  officer  who  commanded  this  little  party  was 
unexpectedly  obliged  to  halt,  about  thirty  miles  from  Inverness, 
at  a  miserable  inn.  About  nightfall,  a  stranger,  in  the  Highland 
dress,  and  of  very  prepossessing  appearance,  entered  the  same 
house.  Separate  accommodation  being  impossible,  the  English- 
man offered  the  newly-arrived  guest  a  part  of  his  supper,  which  was 
accepted  with  reluctance.  By  the  conversation  he  found  his  new 
acquaintance  knew  well  all  the  passes  of  the  country,  w-hich  induced 
him  eagerly  to  request  his  company  on  the  ensuing  morning.  He 
neither  disguised  his  business  and  charge,  nor  his  apprehensions  of 
that  celebrated  freebooter  John  Gunn.  — The  Highlander  hesitated 
a  moment,  and  then  frankly  consented  to  be  his  guide.  Forth  they 
set  in  the  morning;  and,  in  travelling  through  a  solitary  and  dreary 
glen,  the  discourse  again  turned  on  John  Gunn.  "  Would  you  like 
to  see  him.'"'  said  the  guide;  and,  without  waiting  an  answer  to  this 
alarming  question,  he  w-histled,  and  the  English  officer,  with  his 
small  party,  were  surrounded  by  a  body  of  Highlanders,  whose 
numbers  put  resistance  out  of  question,  and  who  were  all  well 
armed.  "  Stranger,"  resinned  the  guide,  "  I  am  that  very  Johi. 
Gunn  by  whoin  you  feared  to  be  intercepted,  and  not  without  cause  : 
for  I  came  to  the  inn  last  night  with  the  express  purpose  of  learning 
your  route,  that  I  and  my  followers  might  ease  you  of  your  charge 


202  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  [Canto  V. 

They  moved  :  —  I  said  Fitz-James  was  brave. 

As  ever  knight  that  belted  glaive  ; 

\'et  dare  not  say,  that  now  his  blood 

Kept  on  its  wont  and  temper'd  flood, 

As,  following  Roderick's  stride,  he  drew 

That  seeming  lonesome  pathway  through, 

Which  yet,  by  fearful  proof,  was  rife 

With  lances,  that,  to  take  his  life, 

Waited  but  signal  from  a  guide. 

So  late  dishonor'd  and  defied. 

Ever,  by  stealth,  his  eye  sought  round 

The  vanish'd  guardians  of  the  ground. 

And  still,  from  copse  and  heather  deep, 

I'ancy  saw  spear  and  broadsword  peep ' 

And  in  the  plover's  shrilly  strain, 

The  sign?.l  whistle  heard  again, 

Nor  breathed  he  free  till  far  behind 

The  pass  was  left  ;  for  then  they  wind 

Along  a  wide  and  level  green, 

Where  neither  tree  nor  turf  was  seen, 

Nor  rush  nor  bush  of  broom  was  near. 

To  hide  a  bonnet,  or  a  spear. 

bv  the  road.  Hut  I  am  incapable  of  bctraviiv^  tlic  tru'-t  you  reposed 
in  me,  and  havinjj  convinced  you  that  you  were  in  my  power.  I  ran 
only  dismiss  you  implunderi-d  and  uninjured."  He  then  i^avc  the 
ofTicer  directions  for  his  journey,  and  disappeared  with  his  party  as 
suddenly  as  they  had  presented  themselves. 

'  MS.  :   "  And  still  from  copse  and  heather  hush. 
Fancy  saw  spear  and  broaiisword  ruNii" 


CANTO  v.]  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE  203 

XII. 

The  Chief  in  silence  strode  before, 

And  reach'd  that  torrent's  sounding  shore, 

Which,  daughter  of  three  mighty  lakes, 

From  Vennachar  in  silver  breaks, 

Sweeps  through  the  plain,  and  ceaseless  mines 

On  Bochastle  the  mouldering  lines,' 

Where  Rome,  the  Empress  of  the  world, 

Of  yore  her  eagle  wings  unfurl'd.^ 

And  here  his  course  the  Chieftain  staid. 

Threw  down  his  target  and  his  plaid. 

And  to  the  Lowland  warrior  said:  — 

"Bold  Saxon!  to  his  promise  just, 

Vich-Alpine  has  discharged  his  trust. 

1  MS.  :  "  On  Bochastle  the  mnrtial  lines." 

"  The  torrent  which  discharges  itself  from  Loch  Vennachar,  the 
lowest  and  eastmost  of  the  three  lakes  which  form  the  scenery 
adjoinin.s?  to  the  Trosachs,  sweeps  through  a  flat  and  extensive  moor, 
called  Bochastle.  Upon  a  small  eminence,  called  the  Dun  of 
Bochastie,  and  indeed  on  the  plain  itself,  are  some  intrenchments, 
which  have  been  thought  Roman.  There  is.  adjacent  to  Callender, 
a  sweet  villa,  the  residence  of  Captain  Fairfoul,  entitled  the  Roman 
Camp. 

"One  of  the  most  entire  and  beautiful  remains  of  a  Roman 
encampment  now  to  be  found  in  Scotland,  is  to  be  seen  at  Ardoch, 
near  Greenloaning,  about  six  miles  to  the  eastward  of  Dunblane. 
This  encampment  is  supposed,  on  good  grounds,  to  have  been  con- 
structed during  the  fourth  campaign  of  Agricola  in  Britain;  it  is 
1060  feet  in  length,  and  900  in  breadth  ;  it  could  contain  26,000  men, 
according  to  the  ordinary  distribution  of  the  Roman  soldiers  in  their 
encampments.  There  appears  to  have  been  three  or  four  ditches, 
strongly  fortified,  surrounding  the  camp.  The  four  entries  crossing 
the  lines  are  still  to  be  seen  distinctly.  The  generaVs  quarter  rises 
above  the  level  of  the  camp,  but  is  not  exactly  in  the  centre.     It  is  a 


:o4.  77//-;    /,.//>)•  Ol-     THE   LAKE.  [Canto  V- 


This  murderous  Chief,  this  ruthless  man, 

This  head  of  a  rebelUous  elan, 

llath  led  thee  safe,  through  watch  and  ward, 

Far  past  Clan-Ali)ine's  outmost  guard. 

Now,  man  to  man,  and  steel  to  steel, 

A  Chieftain's  vengeance  thou  shalt  feel. 

See  here,  all  vantagcless  I  stand, 

Arm'd  like  thyself,  with  single  brand  :' 

For  this  is  Coilantogle  ford< 

And  thou  must  keep  thee  with  thy  sword."  — 

•XII  I. 

The  Saxon  paused  :  "  I  ne'er  delay'd. 

When  foeman  bade  me  draw  my  blade  ; 

Nay,  more,  brave  Chief,  I  vowed  thy  death  : 

Yet  sure  thy  fair  and  generous  faith, 

And  my  deej)  debt  for  life  ])reserved, 

A  better  meed  have  well  deserved  ; 

Can  nought  but  blood  our  feud  atone? 

Are  there  no  means?" —  "  No,  Stranger,  none! 

And  here,  —  to  fne  thy  flagging  zeal,  — 

The  Saxon  cause  rests  on  thy  steel ; 

refjular  s(|iiari-  of  twenty  vards,  cnclo^cil  willi  a  stone  wall,  and  con 
taiiiiiiL,'  tlic  Ibundalions  of  a  lionsc,  thirty  (Vil  by  twonty.  There  is 
a  subterraneous  coniiTiunieation  witli  a  smaller  encampment  at  a 
little  distance,  in  which  several  Roman  lulmets.  spears,  etc..  have 
been  found.  From  this  cainp  at  Ardoch,  tiie  tjreat  Roman  hit,'hway 
runs  east  to  Bertha,  about  fourteen  miles  distant,  where  the  Roman 
armv  i^  believed  to  have  passed  over  the  Tay  into  Stratlimore."  — 
Grminm. 

'  bee  Appendix,  Note  N. 


Canto  V.]  THE  LADV  OF   THE  LAKE.  20S 


For  thus  spoke  Fate,  by  prophet  bred 

Between  the  living  and  the  dead  ; 

'  Who  spills  the  foremost  foeman's  life, 

His  party  conquers  in  the  strife.'  "  — 

"Then,  by  my  word,"  the  Saxon  said, 

"  The  riddle  is  already  read. 

Seek  yonder  brake  beneath  the  cliff,  — 

There  lies  Red  Murdoch,  stark  and  stiff. 

Thus  Fate  has  solved  her  prophecy, 

Then  yield  to  Fate,  and  not  to  me. 

To  James,  at  Stirling,  let  us  go, 

When,  if  thou  wilt  be  still  his  foe. 

Or  if  the  King  shall  not  agree 

To  grant  thee  grace  and  favor  free, 

1  plight  mine  honor,  oath,  and  word. 
That  to  thy  native  strengths  restored. 
With  each  advantage  shalt  thou  stand. 
That  aids  thee  now  to  guard  thy  land. 

XIV. 

Dark  lightning  flashed  from  Roderick's  eye—  ' 
"  Soars  thy  presumption,  then,  so  high. 
Because  a  wretched  kern  ye  slew. 
Homage  to  name  of  Roderick  Dhu .'' 
He  yields  not,  he,  to  man  nor  Fate  !  ^ 
Thou  add'st  but  fuel  to  my  hate  :  — 

'  MS.  :  "  In  li<Thtning  flash'd  the  Chief's  dark  ej'e  " 

2  MS.  :  "  He  stoops  not,  he,  to  James  nor  Fate." 


206  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  L<^:antoV. 

i\Iy  clansman's  l^lood  tlcniands  revenge. 

Not  yet  jn-ej)aietl  ?  —  15y  heaven,  I  change 

My  thought,  and  hold  thy  valor  light 

As  that  of  some  vain  carjK't  knight, 

Who  ill  deserved  my  courteous  care, 

And  whose  best  boast  is  but  to  wear 

A  braid  of  his  fair  lady's  hair."  — 

—  "  I  thank  thee,  Roderick,  for  the  word! 

It  nerves  my  heart,  it  steels  my  sword  ; 

For  I  have  sworn  this  braid  to  stain 

In  the  best  blood  that  warms  thy  vein. 

Now,  truce,  farewell!  and,  ruth,  begone!  — 

Yet  think  not  that  by  thee  alone, 

Proud  Chief !  can  courtesy  be  shown  ; 

Though  not  from  copse,  or  heath,  or  cairn, 

Start  at  my  whistle  clansmen  stern, 

Of  this  small  horn  one  feeble  blast 

Would  fearful  odds  against  thee  cast. 

Ikit  fear  not  —  doubt  not  —  which  thou  wilt  — 

Wc  try  this  quarrel  hilt  to  hilt." 

Then  each  at  once  his  falchion  drew, 

Each  on  the  ground  his  scabbard  threw, 

Each  look'd  to  sun,  and  stream,  and  plain, 

As  what  they  ne'er  might  sec  again  ; 

Then  foot,  and  point,  and  eye  opposed. 

In  dubious  strife  they  darkly  closed.' 


I  It 


'The  two  principal  fi,i,aires  arc  contrasted  with  uncommon 
felicity.  Fitz-James,  who  more  nearly  resembles  the  Frent  li  ILiiry 
the  Fourth  than  the  Scottish  James  V.,  is  ^'ay,  amorous,  fickle, 
intrepid,  impetuous,  alTectionale,  courteous,  graceful,  and  dignified. 


CANTO  v.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  20/ 


XV. 

Ill  fared  it  then  with  Roderick  Dhii, 
That  on  the  field  his  targe  he  threw,' 
Whose  brazen  studs  and  tough  bull-hide 
Had  death  so  often  dash'd  aside ; 
For,  train'd  abroad  his  arms  to  wield, 
Fitz-James's  blade  was  sword  and  shield.' 

Roderick  is  gloomy,  vindictive,  arrogant,  undaunted,  but  constant 
in  his  affections,  and  true  to  his  engagements;  and  the  whole  pas- 
sage in  which  these  personages  are  placed  in  opposition,  from  their 
first  meeting  to  their  final  conflict,  is  conceived  and  written  with  a 
sublimity  which  has  been  rarely  equalled."  —  Quarterly  Revt'c-v, 
iSio. 

^  A. round  target  of  light  wood,  covered  with  strong  leather  and 
studded  with  brass  or  iron,  was  a  nqpessary  part  of  a  Highlander's 
equipment.  In  charging  regular  troops,  they  received  the  thrust  of 
the  bayonet  in  this  buckler,  twisted  it  aside,  and  used  the  broadsword 
against  the  encumbered  soldier.  .In  the  civil  war  of  1745,  most  of 
the  front  rank  of  the  clans  were  thus  armed  :  and  Captain  Grose 
informs  us,  that  in  1747,  the  privates  of  the  42d  regiment,  then  in 
Flanders,  were  for  the  most  part  permitted  to  carry  targets.  — Mili- 
tary Antiquities,  vol.  i.  p.  164.  A  person  thus  armed  had  a  con- 
siderable advantage  in  private  fray.  Among  verses  between  Swift 
and  Sheridan,  lately  published  by  Dr.  Barret,  there  is  an  account  of 
such  an  encounter,  in  which  the  circumstances,  and  consequently  the 
relative  superiority  of  the  combatants,  are  precisely  the  reverse  of 
those  in  the  text :  — 

"  A  Ilig-hlander  once  fought  a  Frenchman  at  Margate. 
The  weapons,  a  rapier,  a  backsword,  and  target; 
Brisk  Monsieur  advanced  as  fast  as  he  could, 
But  all  his  fine  pushes  were  caught  in  the  wood, 
And  Sawney,  with  backsword,  did  slash  him  and  nick  him, 
While  t'other,  enraged  that  he  could  not  once  prick  him, 
Cried,  '  Sirrah,  you  rascal,  you  son  of  a  whore, 
Me  will  fight  you,  be  gar!  if  you'll  come  from  vour  door.'  " 

2  The  use  of  defensive  armor,  and  particularly  of  the  buckler,  or 
target,  was  general  in  Qiieen  Elizabeth's  time,  although  that  of  the 


208  THE   LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  [Canto  V 

He  pijctiscd  c\ciy  pass  and  ward. 
To  Lhiiibt,  to  strike,  to  feint,  to  guard ; 
While  less  expert,  though  stronger  far. 
The  Gael  maintain'd  unequal  war.' 

single  rapier  seems  to  have  been  occasionally  practised  niiicn  earlier.* 
Rowlanti  Vorkc,  however,  who  betraved  the  fort  of  /iilpheii  to  the 
Spaniards,  fur  which  good  service  he  was  allcrwards  poisoned  h\ 
them,  ib  said  to  have  been  the  lirst  who  brougiit  Itie  rajiier-light  into 
general  use.  Fuller,  speaking  of  the  swash  bucklers,  or  bullies  of 
Q^ieen  Elizabeth's  time,  says — "West  Smithfield  was  formerly 
called  Rutlian's  Hall,  where  such  men  usually  met,  casually  or 
otherwise,  to  tr_\  inaslcries  with  sword  and  buckler.  More  were 
frightened  than  hurt,  more  hurt  than  killed  therewith,  it  being 
accounted  unmanly  to  strike  beneath  the  knee.  But  since  that 
desperate  traitor  Rowland  Yorke  first  introduced  thrusting  with 
rapiers,  sword  and  ])uckler  are  disused."  In  -Tlie  Two  Angry 
Women  of  Abingdon."  a  comedy,  printed  in  1599,  we  have  a  pathetic 
complaint :  —  "  Sword  and  buckler  fight  begins  to  grow  out  of  use. 
I  am  sorry  for  it:  I  shall  never  see  good  manhood  again.  If  it  be 
once  gone,  this  poking  fight  of  rapier  and  daggerwill  come  up;  then 
a  tall  mail,  and  a  good  sword-and-buckler  man.  will  be  spitted  like  a 
cat  or  rabbit."  Hut  the  rapier  had  ujion  the  continent  long  super- 
seded, m  private  duel,  the  use  of  sword  and  shield.  The  masters  of 
the  noble  science  of  defence  were  chiefly  Italians.  They  made  great 
mystery  of  their  art  and  mode  of  instruction,  never  suffered  any 
person  to  be  present  but  the  scholar  who  was  to  be  taught,  and  even 
examined  closets,  beds,  and  other  places  of  possible  concealment. 
Their  lessons  often  gave  the  most  treacherous  advantages;  for  the 
challenger,  having  a  right  to  choose  his  weapf)ns.  frequently  selected 
some  strange,  unusual,  and  inconvenient  kind  of  arms,  the  use  of 
which  he  practised  under  these  instructors,  and  thus  killed  at  hir 
ease  his  antagonist,  to  whotn  it  was  presented  for  the  first  time  on 
the  field  of  battle.  Sec  Brantomk'.s  Discourse  on  Diirh.  and  the 
work  on  the  same  subject,  '^''  $i  ffrntrmrut  rcrit^"  by  the  venerable 
Dr.  Paris  de  Puteo.  The  Highlanders  continued  to  use  broad- 
sword and  target  until  disarmed  after  the  all'air  of  1745-6. 
1  MS.  :  "  Not  Roderick  thus,  though  stronger  far 
More  tall  and  more  inured  to  war." 

•  Sci-  Ooiicc'.s  Illustmtinns  of  Shaks|>e.Tri',  vol.  ii    p.  f)r. 


Canto  V.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  20Q 


Three  times  in  closing  strife  they  stood, 
And  thrice  the  Saxon  blade  drank  blood ; 
No  stinted  draught,  no  scanty  tide, 
The  gushing  flood  the  tartans  dyed. 
Fierce  Roderick  felt  the  fatal  drain, 
And  shower'd  his  blows  like  wintry  rain ; 
And,  as  firm  rock,  or  castle-roof, 
Against  the  winter  shower  is  proof, 
,  The  foe,  invulnerable  still, 
Foil'd  his  wild  rage  by  steady  skill ; 
Till,  at  advantage  ta'en,  his  brand 
Forced  Roderick's  weapon  from  his  hand, 
And  backward  borne  upon  the  lea, 
Brought  the  proud  Chieftain  to  his  knee/ 

XVI. 

*'  Now,  yield  thee,  or  by  Him  who  made 
The  world,  thy  heart's  blood  dyes  my  blade ! 
"  Thy  threats,  thy  mercy,  I  defy ! 
Let  recreant  yield,  who  fears  to  die."^' 

^  This  couplet  is  not  in  the  MS. 

^  I  have  not  ventured  to  render  this  duel  so  savagely  desperate  as 
that  of  the  celebrated  SirEv^^an  of  Lochiel,  chief  of  the  clan  Cameron. 
called  from  his  sable  complexion,  Ewan  Dhu.  He  was  the  last  man 
in  Scotland  who  maintained  the  royal  cause  during  the  great  Civil 
War,  and  his  constant  incursions  rendered  him  a  very  unpleasant 
neighbor  to  the  republican  garrison  at  Inverlochy,  now  Fort- Wil- 
liam. The  governor  of  the  fort  detached  a  party  of  three  hundred 
men  to  lay  waste  Lochiel's  possessions,  and  cut  down  his  trees;  but, 
in  a  sudden  and  desperate  attack  made  upon  them  by  the  chieftain 
with  very  inferior  numbers,  they  were  almost  all  cut  to  pieces.     The 


2IO  THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  [Can...  V 


—  Like  adder  darting  from  his  coil, 
Like  wolf  that  dashes  through  the  toil, 
Like  mountain-cat  who  guards  her  young, 
l''ull  at  Fitz-James's  throat  he  sprung  ; ' 
Received,  but  reck  d  not  of  a  wound, 
And  lock'd  his  arms  his  foeman  round. — 
Now,  gallant  Saxon,  hold  thine  own  ! 
No  maiden's  hand  is  round  thee  thrown  ! 
That  desperate  grasp  thy  frame  might  foci, 
Through  bars  of  brass  antl  triple  steel!  — 
They  tug,  they  strain  !  down,  down  they  go. 
The  Gael  above,  T^itz-James  below. 

skirmisli  is  dctailccl   in  a  curious  incinoir  of  Sir  Iav.iu's   life,  pi  intcd 
ill  the  Appendix  of  Pennant's  Scottisii  Tour. 

"  In  tiiis  cnt^aj^cnii-nl,  Lochicl  himself  had  several  woiuieiful 
escapes.  In  the  retreat  of  the  Eniijiisii,  one  of  the  strontjest  and 
bravest  of  the  officers  retired  behind  a  bush,  wlien  lie  observed 
Lochiel  pursuing,  and  scein<j  him  unaccompanied  with  any,  he  leapt 
out,  and  thouiiht  him  his  prev.  They  met  one  another  with  equal 
fury.  The  combat  was  lon-^  and  doubtful:  the  English  gentleman 
had  by  *"ar  the  advantage  in  strength  and  size;  but  Lochiel.  exceed- 
ing iiim  in  nimbleness  and  agility,  in  the  end  trijU  the  sword  out  of 
his  hand:  they  closed  and  wrestled,  till  both  fell  to  the  ground  in 
each  other's  arms.  The  English  onicer  got  above  Lochiel,  ami 
pressed  him  hard,  but  stretching  forth  his  neck  by  attempting  to 
disengage  himself,  Lochiel,  who  by  this  time  hatl  his  hands  at 
hberty,  with  his  left  hand  seized  him  by  the  collar,  and  jumping  at 
his  extended  throat,  he  bit  it  with  his  teeth  quite  through,  and  kept 
such  a  hold  jf  his  grasp,  that  he  broii'^ht  away  his  moutliful  :  this, 
he  said,  was  the  s-vccti'st  bi/  he  ever  had  in  his  ii/elime."  —  Vol.  i. 
P-  375- 

'  MS.  :  "  'Yield  they  alone  who  fear  to  die.' 

Like  mriiint:iin-(at  who  guards  her  young, 

Eull    :it    I'll /-Tiiiifs'-,   lliiiiul    111-   ^ii-iiil"'." 


:anto  v.]  THE  LADY  OF  THE  .LAKE.  211 

The  Clueftaiii's  gripe  his  throat  compress'd, 
His  knee  was  planted  on  his  breast ; 
His  clotted  locks  he  backward  threw 
Across  his  brow  his  hand  he  drew, 
From  blood  and  mist  to  clear  his  sight, 
Then  gleam'd  aloft  his  dagger  bright !  — 
—  But  hate  and  fury  ill  supplied 
The  stream  of   life's  exhausted  tide, 
And  all  too  late  the  advantage  came, 
To  turn  the  odds  of  deadly  game  ; 
For,  while  the  dagger  gleam'd  on  high, 
Reel'd  soul  and  sense,  reel'd  brain  and  eye. 
Down  came  the  blow !  but  in  the  heath 
The  erring  blade  found  bloodless  sheath. 
The  struggling  foe  may  now  unclasp 
The  fainting  Chief's  relaxing  grasp ; 
Unwounded  from  the  dreadful  close, 
But  breathless  all,  Fitz-James  art)se.' 

xvn. 

He  falter'd  thanks  to  Heaven  for  life, 
Redeem'd,  unhoped,  from  desperate  strife;-* 
Next  on  his  foe  his  look  he  cast, 
Whose  every  gasp  appear'd  his  last ; 

'  MS.  •  •'  Panting  and  breathless  on  the  sands. 

But  all  unwounded,  now  he  stands." 

2  MS. :   "  Redeem'd,  unhoped,  from  deadly  strife; 

C  cist 
Next  on  his  foe  his  look  he  ?    '  "  ' 

(  threw, 

Whose  every  breath  appear'd  his  last." 


212  THE   LADY  OF    THE   LAKE.  [Canto  V, 


In  Roderick's  gore  lie  dipt  the  braid  — 

"  Poor  Blanche  !  thy  wrongs  are  dear))'  paid 

Yet  with  thy  foe  must  die,  or  live, 

The  praise  that  r\iith  and  Valor  give." 

With  that  he  blew  a  bugle-note, 

Undid  the  collar  from  his  throat, 

Unbonneted,  and  by  the  wave 

Sate  down  his  brow  and  hands  to  lave. 

Then  faint  afar  arc  heard  the  feet  ' 

Of  rushing  steeds  in  gallop  fleet  ; 

The  sounds  increase,  anil  now  are  seen 

Four  mounted  squires  in  Lincoln  green  ; 

Two  who  bear  lance,  and  two  who  lead, 

liy  loosen'd  rein,  a  saddled  steed  ; 

riach  onward  held  his  headlong  course, 

And  by  Fitz-James  rein'd  up  his  horse. 

With  wonder  view'd  the  bloody  spot  — 

—  "  Ivxclaim  not,  gallants!   question  not. — 

V'ou,  Herbert  and  Luffness,  alight, 

And  bind  the  wounds  ^{  yonder  knight  ; 

Let  the  gray  palfrjy  bear  his  weight, 

We  destined  for  a  fairer  freight. 

And  bring  him  on  to  Stirling  straight  ; 

I  will  before  at  better  speed, 

To  seek  fresh  horse  and  fitting  weed. 

The  sun  rides  high  ;  —  T  must  be  boune, 

To  see  the  archer  game  at  noon  ; 

Rut  lightly  Bayard  clears  the  lea.  — 

De  Vaux  and  Herries,  follow  me. 

1   MS.  :   "  Fiii'iif  </;/// afar  arc  lu-ard  tin-  foot." 


CANTO  v.]  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  213 


XVIII. 

*' Stand,  Bayard,  stand  !-— the  steed  obey'd, 
With  arching  neck  and  bended  head, 
And  glancing  eye  and  quivering  ear. 
As  if  he  loved  his  lord  to  hear. 
No  foot  Fitz-James  in  stirrup  staid, 
No  grasp  upon  the  saddle  laid. 
But  wreath'd  his  left  hand  in  the  mane, 
And  lightly  bounded  from  the  plain, 
Turn'd  on  the  horse  his  armed  heel. 
And  stirr'd  his  courage  with  the  steel. 
Bounded  the  fiery  steed  in  air, 
The  rider  sate  erect  and  fair. 
Then  like  a  bolt  from  steel  crossbow 
Forth  launch'd,  along  the  plain  they  go. 
They  dash'd  that  rapid  current  through. 
And  up  Carhonie's  hill  they  flew  ; 
Still  at  the  gallop  prick'd  the  Knight, 
His  merry-men  follow'd  as  they  might. 
Along  thy  banks,  swift  Teith  !  they  ride. 
And  in  tne  race  they  mock  thy  tide ; 
Torry  and  Lend  rick  now  are  past, 
And  Deanstown  lies  behind  them  cast ; 
They  rise,  the  banner'd  towers  of  Doune,  ' 
They  sink  in  distant  woodland  soon  ; 

'  The  ruins  of  Doune  Castle,  formerly  the  residence  of  the  Earls 
of  Mentcith,  now  the  property  of  the  Earl  of  Moray,  are  situated  at 
the  confluence  of  the  Ardoch  and  the  Teith. 


2  14  THE   LADY  or   THE   LAKE.  L<^nnto  v 


Blair-Drummond  sees  the  hoofs  strike  fire," 
They  sweep  like  breeze  through  Oehtertyre; 
They  mark,  just  glance  and  disappear 
The  lofty  brow  of  ancient  Kicr  ; 
They  bathe  their  courser's  sweltering  sides, 
Dark  Forth  !  amid  thy  sluggish  tides, 
And  on  the  opposing  shore  take  grountl, 
With  plash,  with  scramble,  and  with  bound. 
Right-hand  they  leave  thy  cliffs,  Craig-Forth  !  * 
And  soon  the  bulwark  of  the  North, 
Gray  Stirling,  with  her  towers  and  town. 
Upon  their  fleet  career  look'd  down. 

XIX. 

As  up  the  flinty  path  they  strain'd,  ^ 
Sudden  his  steed  the  leader  rein'd  ; 
A  signal  to  his  squire  he  flung. 
Who  instant  to  his  stirrup  sprung  :  — 
Seest  thou,  De  Vau.x,  yon  woodsman  gray. 
Who  town-ward  holds  the  rocky  way, 


'  MS.  :  "  Blair-Drutninond  saw  their  hoofs,  of  fire.'" 
2  It  may  be  worth  noting  that  the  poet  marks  the  progress  of  the 
sin;,' by  nainiui,' in  succession  places  familiar  ami  dear  to  his  own 
early  recollections  —  Hlair-Drummonii,  the  seat  of  the  Jlomes  of 
Kaimcs;  Kier,  that  of  the  principal  family  of  the  name  of  Slirlinj^; 
Ochtertyrc,  that  of  John  Ramsay,  the  well-known  anti(|iiary,  and 
correspondent  of  Hums;  and  Craiijforth.  that  of  the  Callenders  of 
Craii^'forth.  almo-t  nndcr  the  walls  of  Si iri in -^^  Castle  ;  — all  hospilahle 
roofs,  inuler  wiiith  he  h.id  spent  many  »)f  liis  yoiiii'^er  tlays.  —  I'd. 
'  iMS. :  "As  up  the  .*/f</y  path  they  strain'd." 


Canto  v.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  21 5 


Of  Stature  tall  and  poor  array  ? 
Mark'st  thou  the  firm,  yet  active  stride, 
With  which  he  scales  the  mountain-side  ? ' 
Know' St  thou  from  whence  he  comes,  or  whom  ?  " 
"  No,  by  my  word  ;  —  a  burly  groom 
He  seems,  who  in  the  field  or  chase 
A  baron's  tram  would  nobly  grace."  — 
"  Out,  out,  De  Vaux  !  can  fear  supply, 
.  And  jealousy,  no  sharper  eye? 
Afar,  ere  to  the  hill  he  drew. 
That  stately  form  and  step  I  knew  ; 
Like  form  in  Scotland  is  not  seen. 
Treads  not  such  step  on  Scottish  green. 
'Tis  James  of  Douglas,  by  Saint  Serle !  * 
The  uncle  of  the  banished  Earl. 
Away,  away,  to  court,  to  show 
The  near  approach  of  dreaded  foe  : 
The  King  must  stand  upon  his  guard  ; 
Douglas  and  he  must  meet  prepared." 
Then  right-hand  wheel'd  their  steeds,  and  straight 
They  won  the  castle's  postern  gate. 

XX. 

The  Douglas,  who  had  bent  his  way 
From  Cambus-Kenneth's  abbey  gray, 
Now,  as  he  climb'd  the  rocky  shelf, 
Held  sad  communion  with  himself  : 

1  MS.:  "With  which  he  gains  the  mountain-side." 

2  The  Ediiihiii-gh  Reviewer  remarks  on  "that  unhappy  couplet, 
where  the  King  himself  is  in  such  distress  for  a  rhjme  as   to  be 


2l6  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  [CanioV 


"  Yes  !  all  is  true  my  fears  could  frame  ; 

A  prisoner  lies  the  noble  Grxme, 

And  fiery  Roderick  soon  will  feel 

The  vengeance  of  the  royal  steel. 

I,  only  I,  can  ward  their  fate,  — 

God  grant  the  ransom  come  not  late  ! 

The  Abbess  hath  her  promise  given, 

My  child  shall  be  the  bride  of  Heaven  ;  — 

—  Re  pardon'd  one  repining  tear? 

For  He,  who  gave  her,  knows  how  dear. 
How  excellent !  but  that  is  by. 
And  now  my  business  is  —  to  die. 

—  Ye  towers!  within  whose  circuit  dread 
A  Douglas  by  his  sovereign  bled  ; 

And  thou,  O  sad  and  fatal  mound !  ' 
That  oft  has  heard  the  death-axe  sound. 
As  on  the  noblest  of  the  land 
Fell  the  stern  headsman's  bloody  hand, — 

oblisod  to  appi  V  to  one  of  the  obscurest  saints  in  the  calendar."    The 
readinj'  of  the  MS.  is  — 


«« * 


'Tis  Jiimc'S  of  Doii;;l:is,  by  my  word, 
Tlic  uncle  cif  the  l):iiiisli'(l  Kord." 

1  An  eminence  on  the  north-east  f)f  the  Castle,  where  state 
criminals  were  executed.  Stirlin<(  was  often  polluted  with  noble 
blood.     It  is  thus  apostrophized  by  J.  Johnston  : 

•  "  Discnrdiii  Iristis 

lieu  qiinties  proc«!riini  sanguine  tinxit  hiimum 
Hoc  uno  infelix,  et  felix  ce  era;  nusquatn 
IvTtior  aut  cali  frons  jjeniusvc  soli." 

The  fate  of  William,  eitjhth  Earl  of  T)f)ni,'las.  whom  James  II. 
stabbed  in  Stirling  Castle  with  his  own  hand,  and  while  under  his 
••oval  safe-conduct,  is  familiar  to  all  who  read  Scottish  history. 
Murdack,  Duke  of  Albany,  Duncan,  Earl  of  Lennox,  his  father-in- 


CANTO  v.]  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  217 

The  dungeon,  block,  and  nameless  tomb 

Prepare  —  for  Douglas  seeks  his  doom  ! 

—  But  hark  !  what  blithe  and  jolly  peal 

Makes  the  Franciscan  steeple  reel  ? 

And  see  !  upon  the  crowded  street, 

In  motley  groups  what  masquers  meet ! 

Banner  and  pageant,  pipe  and  drum, 

And  merry  morrice-dancers  come. 

I  guess,  by  all  this  quaint  array, 

The  burghers  hold  their  sports  to-day,  * 

James  will  be  there  ;  he  loves  such  show, 

Where  the  good  yeoman  bends  his  bow. 

And  the  tough  wrestler  foils  his  foe. 

As  well  as  where,  in  proud  career. 

The  high-born  tilter  shivers  spear. 

I'll  follow  to  the  Castle-park, 

And  play  my  prize  ;  —  King  James  shall  mark, 

If  age  has  tamed  these  sinews  stark, 

law,  and  his  two  sons,  Walter  and  Alexander  Stuart,  were  executed 
at  Stirling,  in  1425.  They  were  beheaded  upon  an  eminence  without 
the  castle  walls,  l)ut  making  part  of  the  same  hill,  from  whence  they 
could  behold  their  strong  castle  of  Doune,  and  their  extensive  pos- 
sessions. This  "  heading  hill,"  as  it  was  sometimes  termed,  beai's 
commonly  the  less  terrible  name  of  Hurly-hacket,  from  its  having 
been  the  scene  of  a  courtly  amusement  alluded  to  by  Sir  David 
Lindsay,    who   says    of    the   pastimes   in    which   the    young   king    was 

engaged, 

"  Some  harled  him  to  the  Hurly-hacket;" 

which  consisted  in  sliding,  in  some  sort   of  chair,  it  may  be  supposed, 
from    top   to    bottom   of    a   smooth   bank.     The    boys    of    Edinburgh, 
about  twenty  years   ago,   used  to  ]5lay  at    hurly-hacket,  on  the  Calton- 
hill,  using  for  their  seat  a  horse's  skull. 
1  See  Appendix,  Note  O. 


21 8  THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  [Canto  v. 

Whose  force  so  oft,  in  happier  days, 
His  boyish  wonder  loved  to  praise." 


XXI. 

The  Castle  gates  were  open  flung, 
The  quivering  drawbridge  rock'd  and  rung, 
And  echo'd  loud  the  flinty  street 
Beneath  the  coursers'  clattering  feet. 
As  slowly  down  the  steep  descent 
Fair  Scotland's  King  and  nobles  went,' 
While  all  along  the  crowded  way 
Was  jubilee  and  loud  huzza. 
And  ever  James  was  bending  low, 
To  his  white  jennet's  saddle-bow, 
Doffing  his  cap  to  city  dame, 
Who  smiled  and  blush'd  for  pride  and  shame, 
And  well  the  simperer  might  be  vain, — 
ile  chose  the  fairest  of  the  train, 
.     Gravely  he  greets  each  city  sire. 

Commends  each  pageant's  quaifit  attire, 
Gives  to  the  dancers  thanks  aloud, 
And  smiles  and  nods  uj)on  the  crowd. 
Who  rend  the  heavens  with  their  acclaims, 
"  Long  live  the  Commons'  King,  King  James! 

*  MS.  :   "  Kim;  yaiiira  and  all  his  nobles  went 

Evi  r  the  Kiuii  was  bcndirm  low  • 

To  lii«  white  jennet's  sa(lille-bf)w, 

DtiU'in",'  his  cap  to  Imn^/irr  dainc. 

W/io  i»iilini,'  I'lifsA't/  for  pride  and  hlianic." 


Canto  v.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  219 

Behind  the  King  throng'd  peer  and  knight, 
And  noble  dame  and  damsel  bright, 
Whose  fiery  steeds  ill  brook'd  the  stay 
Of  the  steep  street  and  crowded  way. 
—  But  in  the  train  you  might  discern 
Dark  lowering  brow  and  visage  stern  ; 
There  nobles  mourn'd  their  pride  restrain'd,  ' 
And  the  mean  burgher's  joys  disdain'd  ; 
And  chiefs,  who,  hostage  for  their  clan. 
Were  each  from  home  a  banish'd  man. 
There  thought  upon  their  own  gray  tower. 
Their  waving  woods,  their  feudal  power, 
And  deem'd  themselves  a  shameful  part 
Of  pageant  which  they  cursed  in  heart. 

XXII. 

Now,  in  the  Castle-park  drew  out 
Their  checker'd  bands  the  joyous  rout. 
There  morricers,  with  bell  at  heel. 
And  blade  in  hand,  their  mazes  wheel ;  ^ 

^  MS.  :  "Nobles  -lvJio  mourn'd  W\^\v  foxver  restrain'd; 

And  the  poor  burgher's  joys  disdain'd  ; 

Dark  chief,  ivho,  hostage  for  his  clan, 

Wasy"r();«  his.  home  a  banish'd  man, 

Who  thought  upon  his  own  gray  tower, 

The  wav^ing  woods,  his  feudal  bower,. 

And  deem'd  himself  ^  shameful  part 

Of  pageant  that  he  ciu-scd  in  heart." 
2  MS.  adds  : 

"  With  awkward  stride  there  citv  groom 

Would  part  of  fabled  knight  assume." 


220  THE    /..!/))'  OF    nil-:  LAKE.  tCANiuV 


But  chief,  beside  the  butts,  there  stand 
BoM  Robin  Hood  '  and  all  his  band,  — 
Friar  Tuck  with  cfuarterstaff  and  cowl, 
Old  Scathelocke  with  his  surly  scowl, 
Maid  Marion,  fair  as  ivory  bone, 
Scarlet,  and  Mutch,  and  IJttle  John; 

'  The  exhibition  of  tliis  renowned  outlaw  nnd  his  baiui  was  a 
favorite  frolic  at  such  festivals  as  we  arc  describing.  This  sportinj;, 
ill  which  kinL^s  diil  not  disdain  to  be  actors,  was  prohibited  in  Scot- 
land upon  the  Reformation,  by  a  statute  of  the  sixth  Parliament  of 
(^leen  Mary,  c.  6i,  A.I).  1555.  which  ordered,  under  heavy  penal- 
ties, that  "  na  manner  of  person  be  chosen  Robert  Hude,  nor  Little 
John,  Abbot  of  Unreason,  Qiieen  of  ^hly,  nor  otherwise."  But  in 
1561,  the  "  rascal  multitude."  says  John  Knox,  "  were  stirred  uj)  to 
make  a  Robin  I  hide,  whilkcnormity  was  of  many  years  left  and  damnea 
by  statute  and  act  of  Parliament;  yet  would  they  not  be  forbidden." 
Accordingly  they  raised  a  very  serious  tumult,  and  at  lenglii  made 
prisoners  the  magistrates  who  endeavored  to  suppress  it,  and  would 
not  release  them  till  they  extorted  a  formal  promise  that  no  one 
should  be  punished  for  his  share  of  Ih.e  disturbance.  It  wouUl  seem, 
from  the  complaints  of  the  General  Assembly  of  the  Kirk,  that  these 
profane  festivities  were  continued  down  to  159-.*  Hold  Robin  was, 
to  say  the  least,  equally  successful  in  maintaining  his  ground  against 
the  reformed  clergy  of  Hlngland;  for  the  simple  and  evangelical 
Latimer  complains  of  coming  to  a  country  church,  where  the  people 
refused  to  hear  him.  because  it  was  Robin  Hood's  day;  and  his 
mitre  and  rochet  were  fain  to  give  way  to  the  village  pastime.  Much 
curious  information  on  this  subject  may  be  found  in  the  Preliminary 
Dissertation  to  the  late  Mr.  Rilson's  editifin  of  the  songs  respecting 
tliis  memorable  outlaw.  The  game  of  Robin  Hood  was  usually 
acted  in  May;  and  he  was  associated  with  the  niorri.!e-dancers,  on 
whom  so  much  illustration  has  been  bestowed  by  the  commentators 
on  Shakspeare.  A  very  lively  picture  of  tliesc  festivities,  containing 
a  great  deal  of  curious  information  on  the  subject  of  the  private  life 
and  amnsemcntfi  of  our  ancestors,  was  thrown  by  the  late  ingenious 
Mr.  Strutt,  into  hi--  romance  entitled  (.^^uen-hoo  Hall,  pul)!ished 
after  his  death,  in  iS'kS. 

•  B(iok  of  lilt  Universal  Kirk,  j>.  \\\. 


Canto  v.]  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  221 

Their  bugles  ehallenge  all  that  will, 

In  archery  to  prove  their  skill. 

The  Douglas  bent  a  bow  of  might,  — 

His  first  shaft  centered  in  the  white, 

And  when  in  turn  he  shot  again, 

His  second  split  the  first  in  twain. 

From  the  King's  hand  must  Douglas  take 

A  silver  dart,  the  archer's  stake  ; 

Fondly  he  watch'd  with  watery  eye, ' 
Some  answering  glance  of  sympathy,  — 
No  kind  emotion  made  reply  ! 
Indifferent  as  to  archer  wight, 
The  monarch  gave  the  arrow  bright.  ^ 

*  MS.  :   "  Fondly  he  watch'd  with  watery  eye, 

For  answering  glance  of  sympathy, — 

But  )io  emotion  made  reply! 

Indifferent  as  to  iinknozvn  ~|      •   ,  , 

^  (  wight. 

Cold  as  to  utiktiozvji  yeoman     ) 

The  r^ing  gave  forth  the  arrow  bright." 

*  The  Douglas  of  the  poem  is  an  imaginary  person,  a  supposed 
uncle  of  the  Earl  of  Angus.  But  the  king's  behavior  during  an 
unexpected  interview  with  the  Laird  of  Kilspindie,  one  of  the 
banished  Douglasses,  under  ciixumstances  similar  to  those  in  the 
text,  is  imitated  from  a  real  story  told  by  Home  of  Godscroft.  I 
would  have  ava.iled  myself  more  fully  of  the  simple  and  affecting 
circumstances  of  the  old  history,  had  they  not  been  already  woven 
into  SI  pathetic  ballad  by  my  friend  Mr.  Finlay.* 

"  His  (the  king's)  implacability  (towards  the  family  of  Douglas) 
did  also  appear  in  his  carriage  towards  Archibald  of  Kilspindie, 
whom  he,  when  he  was  a  child,  loved  singularly  well  for  his  ability 
of  body,  and  was  wont   to   call  him   his  Grey-Steill.f      Archibald, 

*  Sec  Scottish  Historical  and  Romantic  Ballads.     Glasgow,  tScS,  vol.  ii.  p.  117 
t  A  cliampion  of  popular  romance.     See  JiUis's  Romances,  vol.  xii. 


212  THE  i.un'  or  Till-:  takf.        [canto  v. 

X  X 1 1  r. 

Now,  clear  the  rinc;  !  for,  hand  to  lianrl, 
Tlic  manly  wrestlers  take  their  staiul. 

heinjT  banished  into  Encjlaiiil,  could  not  well  comport  with  the 
humor  of  that  nation,  which  he  thought  to  be  too  proud,  ami  that 
they  had  too  high  a  conceit  of  themselves,  joined  with  a  contempt 
and  despising  of  all  others.  Wherefore  being  wearied  of  that  life, 
and  remembering  the  king's  favor  of  old  towards  him,  he  determined 
to  trv  the  king's  mercifulness  and  clemencj.  So  he  comes  into 
Scotland,  and  taking  occasion  of  the  king's  hunting  in  the  Park  of 
Stirling,  he  casts  himself  to  be  in  his  wav.  as  he  was  coming  home 
to  the  castle.  So  soon  is  the  king  saw  him  afar  olT,  ere  he  came 
near,  he  guessed  it  was  he,  and  said  to  one  of  his  courtiers.  Yonder 
is  mv  Grey-Steill,  Archibald  of  Kilspindie,  if  he  be  ^live.  The 
other  answered  that  it  could  not  be  he,  and  that  he  durst  not  come 
into  the  king's  presence.  The  king  approaching,  he  fell  upon  his 
knees  and  craved  pardon,  and  promised  from  thenceforward  to 
abstain  from  meddling  in  public  alTaIrs,  and  to  lead  a  quiet  and 
private  life.  The  king  went  bv  without  giving  him  anv  answer,  and 
trotted  a  good  round  pace  up  the  lull.  Kilspindie  followed,  and, 
though  he  wore  on  him  a  secret,  or  shirt  of  mail,  for  liis  particular 
enemies,  was  as  soon  at  the  castle  gate  as  the  king.  There  he  sat 
him  down  upon  a  stone  without,  and  entreated  some  of  the  king's 
servants  for  a  cup  of  drink,  being  weary  and  thirsty;  but  they,  fear- 
ing the  king's  displeasure,  durst  give  him  none.  When  the  king 
was  set  at  his  dinner,  he  askei!  what  he  had  done,  M.hat  he  had 
said,  and  whither  he  had  gone.'  It  was  told  him  that  'ne  had  desired 
a  cup  of  drink  and  had  gotten  none.  The  king  reproved  them  very 
sharply  for  their  discourtesy,  and  told  them,  that  if  he  had  n'>* 
taken  an  oath  that  no  Douglas  should  ever  serve  him.  he  would  have 
nccived  him  irao  his  service,  for  he  had  seen  liiiii  sometime  a  man 
of  great  ability.  Then  he  sent  him  word  to  go  to  Leith,  and  expect 
his  further  pleasure.  Then  some  kinsman  of  David  Falconer,  the 
cannonier,  that  was  slain  at  Tantallon,  began  to  quarrel  with 
Archibald  about  the  matter,  wherewith  the  king  showed  himself  not 
well  pleased  when  he  heard  of  it.  Then  he  commanded  him  to  go 
to  France  for  a  certain  space,  till  he  heard  from  him.  And  so  he 
did,  and  died  shortly  after.      This  gave  occasion  to  the  King  of 


Canto  V.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  223 


Two  c/cr  the  rest  superior  rose, 
And  proud  demanded  mightier  foes, 
Nor  call'd  in  vain  ;  for  Douglas  came. 
—  For  life  is  Hugh  of  Larbert  lame; 
Scarce  better  John  of  Alloa's  fare. 
Whom  senseless  home  his  comrades  bear. 
Prize  of  the  wrestling  match,  the  King 
To  Douglas  gave  a  golden  ring, ' 
While  coldly  glanced  his  eye  of  blue, 
As  frozen  drop  of  wintry  dew, 
Douglas  would  speak,  but  in  his  breast 
His  struggling  soul  his  words  suppress'd  ; 

England  (Henry  VIII.)  to  blame  his  nephew,  alleging  the  old  say- 
ing, That  a  king's  face  should  give  grace.  For  tb's  Archibald 
(whatsoever  were  Angus's  or  Sir  George's  fault)  had  not  been  prin- 
cipal actor  of  anything,  nor  wo  counsellor  nor  stirrer  up,  but  only  a 
follower  of  his  friends,  and  that  noways  cruelly  disposed." —  Hume 
of  Godscro/i,  ii.  107. 

1  The  usunl  prize  of  a  wresthng  was  a  ram  and  a  ring,  but  the 
animal  would  have  embarrassed  my  story.,,  Thus,  in  the  Cokes 
Tale  of  Gamelyn,  ascribed  to  Chaucer: 

"  There  happed  to  be  there  beside 
Tryed  a  wrestling; 
And  therefore  there  was  y-setten 
A  ram  and  als  a  ring." 

Again  the  Litil  Geste  of  Robin  Hood  : 

"  By  a  bridge  was  a  wrestling, 

And  there  taryed  was  he, 
And  there  was  all  the  best  yemen 

Of  all  the  west  countrey. 
A  full  fayre  game  there  was  set  up,. 

A  white  bull  up  y-pight, 
A  great  courser  with  saddle  and  brydle, 

With  gold  burnished  full  bryght; 
A  payre  of  glove",  a  red  golde  ringe, 

A  pipe  of  wyne  good  fay ', 
What  man  bereth  him  best,  I  wis, 

The  prize  shall  bear  away." 

Ritson's  Robin  Hood,  vol.  I, 


224  77//;   L.inV   OF    TIIF.    lAKE.  [Canto  V. 

IiKlij;nant  then  he  tiirn'd  him  where 

Their  anus  the  brawny  )eonien  bare, 

To  hurl  the  massive  bar  in  air. 

When  each  his  utmost  strcuLjlh  had  shown, 

The  Douglas  rent  an  earth-fast  stone 

T'rom  its  deep  bed,  then  heaved  it  high. 

And  sent  the  fragment  through  the  sky, 

A  rood  beyond  the  farthest  mark;  — 

And  still  in  Stirling's  royal  park. 

The  gray-hair'd  sires,  who  know  the  past. 

To  strangers  point  the  Douglas-cast, 

And  moralize  on  the  decay 

Of  Scottish  strength  in  modern  day.  ' 

XXIV. 

The  vale  with  loud  applauses  rang, 
The  Ladies'  Rock  sent  back  the  clan£r. 
The  King,  \\'ith  look  unmov'd,  bcstow'd 
A  purse  well  fill'd  with  pieces  broad.  * 
*        Indignant  smiled  the  Douglas  proud. 
And  threw  the  gold  among  the  crowd.  ^ 
Who  now,  with  anxious  wonder  scan, 
And  sharper  glance  the  dark  gray  man  , 
Till  whispers  rose  among  the  throng. 
That  heart  so  free  and  hand  so  strong, 
Must  to  the  Douglas  blood  belong ; 

1  MS.  :  "  Of  ;;/^;7rt/ strctiirfli  in  inrxlcrn  day." 

-  MS.  :   "  A  purse  -vcis^^li'd  tiovu  willi  picrcs  biDad." 

*  MS.  :   '•  Scattered  tl)c  gold  among  tiie  crowd." 


CANTO  v.]  THE   LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  22^ 

The  old  men  mark'd,  and  shook  the  head, 

To  see  his  hair  with  silver  spread, 

And  wink'd  aside,  and  told  each  son, 

Of  feats  upon  the  English  done, 

Ere  Douglas  of  the  stalwart  hand ' 

Was  exiled  from  his  native  land. 

The  women  prais'd  his  stately  form. 

Though  wreck'd  by  many  a  winter's  storm  ;  - 

The  youth  with  awe  and  wonder  saw 

His  strength  surpassing  Nature's  law. 

Thus  judged,  as  is  their  wont,  the  crowd, 

Till  murmur  rose  to  clamors  loud. 

But  not  a  glance  from  that  proud  ring 

Of  peers  who  circled  round  the  King, 

With  Douglas  held  communion  kind, 

Or  call'd  the  banish'd  man  to  mind;^ 

No,  not  from  those  who,  at  the  chase, 

Once  held  his  side  the  honor'd  place, 

Begirt  his  board,  and  in  the  field. 

Found  safety  underneath  his  shield ; 

For  he,  whom  royal  eyes  disown, 

When  was  his  form  to  courtiers  known  1 

XXV. 

The  monarch  saw  the  gambols  fxag, 
And  bade  let  loose  a  gallant  stag. 


•  MS. 
^  MS. 
=«  MS. 


"  Ere  yaiiies  of  Douglas'  stalwart  hand." 
"  Thoufjh  xuorn  by  many  a  winter  storm." 
"  Or  called  his  stately  form  to  mind." 


226  Zy/Zi"   LADY  OF    JI/IC   LAKE.  [Canto  V 

Whoso  pride  the  lioliday  U)  crown, 

Two  favorite  greyliountls  should  pull  down, 

That  vcnsion  free,  and  l^ourdcaux  wine, 

Mii^ht  serve  the  archery  to  dine. 

l-5ut  Lufra,  —  whom  from  Douglas'  side 

Nor  bribe  nor  threat,  could  ere  divide 

The  fleetest  hound  in  all  the  North, — 

Brave  Lufra  saw,  and  darted  forth. 

She  left  the  royal  hounds  mid-way, 

And  dashin<;  on  the  antler'd  prey. 

Sunk  her  sharp  muzzle  in  his  flank. 

And  deep  the  flowing  life-blood  drank. 

The  Kinjjj's  stout  huntsman  saw  the  sport, 

V>y  stran<^e  intruder  broken  short, 

Came  up,  and,  with  his  leash  unbound, 

In  anther  struck  the  noble  hound. 

—  The  Douglas  had  endured,  that  mom, 

The  King's  cold  look,  the  nobles'  scorn. 

And  last  and  worst  to  spirit  proud. 

Had  borne  the  pity  of  the  crowd  ; 

But  T.ufra  had  been  fondly  bred. 

To  share  his  board,  to  watch  his  bed. 

And  oft  would  TCllen,  Lufra's  neck 

In  maiden  glee  with  garlands  deck ; 

rhey  were  such  playmates,  that  with  namf.: 

Of  Lufra,  Lllen's  image  came. 

llis  stifled  wrath  is  brimming  high, 

In  darken'd  brow  and  Hashing  eye; 


Canto  V.]  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  22/ 

As  waves  before  the  bark  divide, 
The  crowd  gave  way  before  his  stride ; 
Needs  but  a  buffet  and  no  more, 
The  groom  Hes  senseless  in  his  gore. 
Such  blow  no  other  hand  could  deal, 
Though  gr.untleted  in  glove  of  steel. 


XXVI. 

Then  clamor'd  loud  the  royal  train,  * 
Aod  brandish'd  swords  and  staves  amain. 
But  stern  the  Baron's  warning — "Back!" 
Back,  on  your  lives,  ye  menial  pack ! 
Beware  the  Douglas,  —  Yes  !  behold, 
King  James  !  The  Douglas,  doom'd  of  old, 
And  vainly  sought  for  near  and  far, 
A  victim  to  atone  the  war, 
A  willing  victim,  now  attends. 
Nor  craves  thy  grace  but  for  his  friends"  - 
"  Thus  in  my  clemency  repaid  } 
Presumptuous  Lord  !  "  the  Monarch  said  ; 
"  Of  thy  mis-proud  ambitious  clan. 
Thou,  James  of  Bothwell,  wert  the  man, 
The  only  man,  in  whom  a  foe 
My  woman-mercy  would  not  know  : 

1  MS.  :  "  Clamor'd  his  comrades  of  the  train." 

2  MS.  :  "  But  stern  the  warrior's  warning —  '  Back !  "* 


;28  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  [Canto  V. 

But  shall  :i  Monarch's  presence  brook  ' 
Injurious  blow,  and  haughty  look?  — 
What  ho  !  The  Captain  of  our  Guard  ! 
Give  the  offender  fitting  ward.  — 
Break  off  the  sports  !  "  —  for  tumult  rose, 
And  yeomen  'gan  to  bend  their  bows,  — 
"  ]keak  off  the  sports!  "  he  saiti,  and  frown'd, 
"  And  bid  our  horsemen  clear  the  ground." 

XXVII. 

Then  uproar  wild  and  misarray 

Marr'd  the  fair  form  of  festal  day. 

The  horsei'iien  prick'd  among  the  crowd, 

Rcpell'd  by  threats  and  insult  loutl  ;^ 

To  earth  are  borne  the  old  and  weak, 

The  timorous  fly,  the  wc^men  shriek  ; 

With  flint,  with  shaft,  with  staff,  with  bar, 

The  hardier  urge  tumultuous  war. 

At  once  round  Douglas  darkly  sweep 

The  royal  spears  in  circle  deep. 

And  slowly  scale  the  pathway  steep: 

While  on  the  rear  in  thunder  j)our 

The  rabble  with  disordered  roar. 

With  grief  the  noble  Douglas  saw 

The  Commons  rise  against  the  law. 


'  MS.  :   "  r?iit  in  niv  court,  injurious  blow. 

And  hcarck'c]  thus,  and  tlius  out-dared? 
What  lio!   the  Captain  of  our  Guard  !  " 

'  M.S.:    "Their  threats  rep.lIM  hv  iiisult  loud." 


Canto  V.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  229 


And  to  the  leading  soldier  said,  — 
"  Sir  Jolm  of  Hyndford  !  'twas  my  blade 
That  knighthood  on  thy  shoulder  laid ; 
For  that  good  deed,  permit  me  then 
A  word  with  these  misguided  men. 


^O' 


XXVIII. 

"  Hear,  gentle  friends  !  ere  yet  for  me, 

Ye  break  the  bands  of  fealty. 

My  life,  my  honor,  and  my  cause, 

I  tender  free  to  Scotland's  laws. 

Are  these  so  weak  as  must  require 

The  aid  of  your  misguided  ire  .-* 

Or,  if  I  suffer  causeless  wrong, 

Is  then  my  selfish  rage  so  strong, 

My  sense  of  public  weal  so  low. 

That,  for  mean  vengeance  on  a  foe, 

Those  cords  of  love  I  should  unbind, 

Which  knit  my  country  and  my  kind 

Oh  no !  Believe  in  yonder  tower 

It  will  not  soothe  my  captive  hour, 

To  know  those  spears  our  foes  should  dread, 

For  me  in  kindred  gore  are  red ; 

To  know,  in  fruitless  brawl  begun, 

For  me,  that  mother  wails  her  son ; 

For  me,  that  widow's  mate  expires ; 

For  me,  that  orphans  weep  their  sires, 

That  patriots  mourn  insulted  laws, 

And  curse  the  Douglas  for  the  cause. 


230  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  [Canto  V. 


O  let  your  patience  ward  such  ill, 
And  keep  your  right  to  love  me  still!" 

XXIX. 

The  crowd's  wild  fury  sunk  again ' 
In  tears,  as  tempests  melt  in  rain. 
With  lifted  hands  and  eyes,  they  pray'd 
For  blessings  on  his  generous  head, 
Who  for  his  country  felt  alone, 
And  prized  her  blood  beyond  his  own. 
Old  men,  upon  the  verge  of  life, 
Bless'd  him  who  stayed  the  civil  strife ; 
And  mothers  held  their  babes  on  high, 
The  self-devoted  Chief  to  spy, 
Triumphant  over  wrongs  and  ire. 
To  whom  the  prattlers  owed  a  sire  : 
Even  the  rough  soldier's  heart  was  mo\ed 
As  if  behind  some  bier  beloved, 
With  trailing  arms  and  droojiing  head, 
The  Douglas  up  the  hill  he  led. 
And  at  the  castle's  battled  verge. 
With  si'dis  resiL^Vd  his  honor'd  charge. 


XXX. 

The  offended  Monarch  rode  apart, 
With  bitter  thought  and  swelling  heart, 

1  MS.  :  ••Tlio  crowd's  wild  fiirv  .  Iil/d  .Tiiimn 
111  tears,  as  Icinpcstb  sink  in  raiu." 


Canto  V.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  23 1 

And  would  not  now  vouchsafe  again 
Through  Stirling  streets  to  lead  his  train. 
"  O  Lennox,  who  would  wish  to  rule 
This  changeling  crowd,  this  common  fool? 
Hear'st  thou,"  he  said,  "the  loud  acclaim 
With  which  they  shout  the  Douglas  name  ? 
With  like  acclaim,  the  vulgar  throat 
Strain'd  for  King  James  their  morning  note  ; 
With  like  acclaim  they  hail'd  the  day 
When  first  I  broke  the  Douglas'  sway ; 
And  like  acclaim  would  Douglas  greet, 
If  he  could  hurl  me  from  my  seat. 
Who  o'er  the  herd  would  wish  to  reign, 
Fantastic,  fickle,  fierce,  and  vain  ! 
Vain  as  the  leaf  upon  the  stream,  * 
And  fickle  as  a  changeful  dream ; 
Fantastic  as  a  woman's  mood. 
And  fierce  as  Frenzy's  fever'd  blood. 
Thou  many-headed  monster  thing,  * 
O  who  would  wish  to  be  thy  king! 


^  MS.  :  "  Vain  as  the  sick  man's  idle  dream." 

'^  "  Who  deserves  greatness, 

Deserves  your  hate;  and  your  affections  are 

A  sick  man's  appetite,  who  desires  most  that 

Which  would  increase  his  evil.     He  that  depends 

Upon  3'our  favors,  swims  with  fins  of  lead, 

And  hews  down  oaks  with  rushes.     Hang  ye!     Trust  yet 

With  every  minute  you  do  change  a  mind ; 

And  call  him  noble,  that  was  now  your  hate, 

Him  vile  that  was  your  garland." 

Coriolafius,  Act  I.  Scene  I. 


^3-  THE    LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  [Canto  V 

XXXI. 

"  But  soft  !  what  messenger  of  speed 

Spurs  hitherward  his  panting  steed  ? 

I  guess  his  cognizance  afar — 

What  from  our  cousin,  John  of  Mar?" 

"  He  prays,  my  Hege,  your  sports  keep  bound 

Within  the  safe  and  guarded  ground  : 

For  some  foul  purpose  yet  unknown,  — 

Most  sure  for  evil  to  the  throne,  — 

The  outlaw'd  Chieftain,  Roderick  Dhu, 

Has  summon'd  his  rebellious  crew; 

'Tis  said,  in  James  of  Bothwell's  aid 

These  loose  banditti  stand  array'd. 

The  Earl  of  Mar,  this  morn,  from  Doune, 

To  break  their  muster  march'd,  and  soon 

Your  grace  will  hear  of  battle  fought  ; 

But  earnestly  the  luarl  besought, 

Till  for  such  danger  he  provide, 

With  scanty  train  you  will  not  ride."' 

XXX 11.    . 

"Thou  warn'st  me  I  have  done  amiss,— 
I  should  have  earlier  looked  to  this: 
I  lost  it  in  this  bustling  day. 
Retrace  \vith  speed  thy  former  way; 
Sparc  not  for  spoiling  of  thy  steed, 
The  best  of  mine  shall  be  thy  meed. 

^  MS.  :   "  On  distant  chase  vou  will  not  riilc." 


Canto  V.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  233 

Say  to  our  faithful  Lord  of  Mar, 
We  do  forbid  the  intended  war : 
Roderick,  this  morn,  in  single  fight, 
Was  made  our  prisoner  by  a  knight ; 
And  Douglas  hath  himself  and  cause 
Submitted  to  our  kingdom's  laws. 
The  tidings  of  their  leaders  lost 
Will  soon  dissolve  the  mountain  host. 
Nor  would  we  that  the  vulgar  feel. 
For  their  Chief's  crimes  avenging  steel. 
Bear  Mar  our  message,  Braco:  fly  !" 
He  turn'd  his  steed,  —  "My  liege,  I  hie, — 
Yet,  ere  I  cross  this  lily  lawn, 
I  fear  the  broadswords  will  be  drawn." 
The  turf  the  flying  courser  spurn'd. 
And  to  his  towers  the  King  return'd. 


XXXIII. 

Ill  with  King  James's  mood  that  day, 
Suited  gay  feast  and  minstrel  lay ; 
Soon  were  dismiss'd  the  courtly  throng, 
And  soon  cut  short  the  festal  song. 
Nor  less  upon  the  sadden'd  town 
The  evening  sunk  in  sorrow  down. 
The  burghers'spoke  of  civil  jar. 
Of  rumor'd  feuds  and  mountain  war, 
Of  Moray,  Mar,  and  Roderick  Dhu, 
All  up  in  arms  :-— the  Douglas,  too, 


234  THE  LADY  OF   TIIF.    LAKE.  [Canto  v. 

They  mourn'd  him  pent  within  the  hold, 
"  Where  stout  ]i:arl  William  was  of  old."* 
And  there  his  word  the  speaker  staid, 
And  finger  on  his  lip  he  laid, 
Or  pointed  to  his  dagger  blade. 
But  jaded  horsemen,  from  the  west, 
At  evening  to  the  Castle  press'd ; 
And  busy  talkers  said  they  bore 
Tidings  of  fight  on  Katrine's  shore ; 
At  noon  the  deadly  fray  begun. 
And  lasted  till  the  set  of  sun. 
Thus  giddy  rumor  shook  the  town, 
Till  closed  the  Night  her  pennons  brown. 

^  Stabbed  by  James  II.  in  Stirling  Castle. 


CANTO   SIXTH. 

THE    GUARD-ROOM. 

I. 

The  sun,  awakening,  through  the  smoky  air 

Of  the  dark  city  casts  a  sullen  glance, 
Rousing  each  caitiff  to  his  task  of  care, 

Of  sinful  man  the  sad  inheritance ; 
Summoning  revellers  from  the  lagging  dance, 

Scaring  the  prowling  robber  to  his  den  ; 
Gilding  on  battled  tower  the  warder's  lance, 

And  warning  student  pale  to  leave  his  pen, 
And  yield  his  drowsy  eyes  to  the  kind  nurse  of  men. 

What  various  scenes,  and,  O !  what  scenes  of  woe, 

Are  witness'd  by  that  red  and  struggling  beam ! 
The  fever'd  patient,  from  his  pallet  low. 

Through  crowded  hospital  beholds  its  stream ; 
The  ruin'd  maiden  trembles  at  its  gleam. 

The  debtor  wakes  to  thought  of  gyve  and  jail, 
The  love-lorn  wretch  starts  from  tormenting  dream  ; 

The  wakeful  mother,  by  the  glimmering  pale. 
Trims  her  sick  infant's  couch,  and  soothes  his  feeble 


wail. 


235 


236  Tin-:   LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.         [Canto  VL 


II. 

At  dawn  the  towers  of  Stirlinq;  raiifr 
With  soldier-step  and  weapon-elang, 
While  drums,  with  rolling  note,  foretell 
Relief  to  weary  sentinel. 
Through  narrow  loop  and  casement  barr'd,' 
The  sunbeams  sought  the  Court  of  Guard, 
And,  struggling  with  the  smoky  air, 
Deaden'd  the  torches'  yellow  glare. 
In  comfortless  alliance  shone  ^ 
The  lights  through  arch  of  blacken'd  .stone, 
And  show'd  wild  shapes  in  garb  of  war, 
Faces  deformed  with  beard  and  scar, 
All  haggard  from,  the  midnight  watch, 
And  fcver'd  witii  the  stern  debauch  ; 
For  the  oak  table's  massive  board. 
Flooded  with  wine,  with  fragments  stored, 
And  beakers  drain'd,  and  cups  o'erlhrown, 
Show'd  in  what  sport  the  night  had  flown. 
Some,  weary,  snored  on  floor  and  bench  ; 
Some  labor'd  still  their  thirst  to  quench  ; 
Some,  chill'd  with  watching,  spread  their  hands 
O'er  the  huge  chimney's  dying  brands, 
While  round  them,  or  beside  them  flung, 
At  every  step  their  harness  rung. 

'  MS.  :  "  Tfiioii<;h  hlackoiiM  arcli  and  cast-mcnt  barr'd." 
"*  MS.  :   " 'J'lic  lii,'lits  in  strange  alliance  shone 
Bi  t(calh  llic  arch  of  blacken'd  stone." 


Canto  VI.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  237 

III. 

These  drew  not  for  their  fields  the  sword, 

Like  tenants  of  a  feudal  lord, 

Nor  own'd  the  patriarchal  claim, 

Of  Chieftain  in  their  leader's  name ; 

Adventurers  they,  from  far  who  roved, 

To  live  by  battle  wiiich  they  loved.' 

There  the  Italian's  clouded  face. 

The  swarthy  Spaniard's  there  you  trace ; 

The  mountain-loving  Switzer  there 

More  freely  breathed  in  mountain-air ; 

The  Fleming  there  despised  the  soil, 

That  paid  so  ill  the  laborer's  toil ; 

Their  rolls  show'd  French  and  German  name  ; 

And  merry  England's  exiles  came, 

To  share,  with  ill-conceal'd  disdain. 

Of  Scotland's  pay  the  scanty  gain. 

All  brave  in  arms,  well  train'd  to  wield 

The  heavy  halberd,  brand,  and  shield ; 

In  camps  licentious,  wild,  and  bold ; 

In  pillage  fierce  and  uncontroll'd  ; 

And  now,  by  holytide  and  feast, 

From  rules  of  discipline  released. 

IV. 

They  held  debate  of  bloody  fray. 
Fought  'twixt  Loch  Katrine  and  Achray. 

'  See  Appendix,  Note  P. 


23S  THE    LADY  OF    TUE   LAKE.         [Canto  vi. 

r'iercc  was  their  speech,  and,  'mid  their  words, 

Their  hands  oft  grai)p]ed  to  their  swords; 

Nor  sunk  their  tone  to  spare  the  ear 

Of  wounded  comrades  groaning  near, 

Whose  mangled  Hnibs,  and  bodies  gored, 

Bore  token  of  the  mountain  sword. 

Though  neighboring  to  the  Court  of  Guard, 

Their  prayers  and  feverish  wails  were  heard  ; 

Sad  burden  to  the  ruffian  joke. 

And  savage  oath  by  fury  spoke  !  — ' 

At  length  up  started  John  of  Brent, 

A  yeoman  from  the  banks  of  Trent ; 

A  stranger  to  respect  or  fear. 

In  peace  a  chaser  of  the  deer. 

In  host  a  hardy  mutineer, 

But  still  the  boldest  of  the  crew, 

When  deed  of  danger  was  to  do. 

He  grieved,  that  day,  their  games  cut  short, 

And  marr'd  the  dicer's  brawling  sport, 

And  shouted  loud,  "  Renew  the  bowl  ! 

And,  while  a  merry  catch  I  trowl. 

Let  each  the  buxom  chorus  bear, 

Like  brethren  of  the  brand  and  spear." 

V. 

soldif.k's  .song. 
Our  vicar  still  preaches  that  Peter  and  Poule 
Laid  a  swinging  long  curse  on  the  bonny  brown  bowl, 

*  MS.  -   "  Sad  hiwcloii  lo  iJic  nifVinn  jest, 

Ami  iikIc  oaths  vented  hy  the  rct>l." 


Canto  VI.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  239 

That  there's  wrath  and  despair  in  the  jolly  black-jack. 
And  the  seven  deadly  sins  in  a  flagon  of  sack ; 
Yet  whoop,  Barnaby !  off  with  thy  liquor, 
Drink  iipsees  '  out,  and  a  fig  for  the  vicar ! 

Our  vicar  he  calls  it  damnation  to  sip 

The  ripe  ruddy  dew  of  a  woman's  dear  lip, 

Says,  that  Beelzebub  lurks  in  her  kerchief  so  sly, 

And  Apollyon  shoots  darts  from  her  merry  black  eye  ; 

Yet  whoop,  Jack !  kiss  Gillian  the  quicker. 

Till  she  bloom  like  a  rose,  and  a  fig  for  the  vicar ! 

Our  vicar  thus  preaches  —  and  why  should  he  not  ? 
For  the  dues  of  his  cure  are  the  placket  and  pot ; 
And  'tis  right  of  his  office  poor  laymen  to  lurch. 
Who  infringe  the  domains  of  our  good  Mother  Church, 
Yet  whoop,  bully-boys  !  off  with  your  liquor, 
Sweet  Marjorie's  the  word,  and  a  fig  for  the  vicar !  ^ 

VI. 

The  warder's  challenge,  heard  without, 
Staid  in  mid-roar  the  merry  shout. 
A  soldier  to  the  portal  went,  — 
"  Here  is  old  Bertram,  sirs,  of  Ghent ; 


1  Bacchanalian  interjection,  borrowed  from  the  Dutch. 

2  "The  greatest  blemish  in  the  poem  is  the  ribaldrj  and  dull 
vulgarity  which  is  put  into  the  mouths  of  the  soldiery  in  the  guard- 
room. Mr.  Scott  has  condescended  to  write  a  song  for  them,  wliich 
will  be  read  with   pain,  we  are   persuaded,  even   by  his   warmest 


240  THE   LADY  (V-"   THE  LAKE.         [Cant..  VI. 

/\ikI,  —  bc.il  l<ii  jul)ilec  llic  (irum  ! 

A  niaitl  antl  minstrel  with  him  come." 

Bertram,  a  Flemings  gray  ami  t>carr'cl, 

Was  entering  now  the  Court  of  Guard, 

A  harper  with  him,  and,  in  plaid 

All  muffled  close,  a  mountain  maid, 

Who  backward  shrank  to  'scape  the  view 

Of  the  loose  scene  and  boisterous  crew. 

"  What  news  .''  "  they  roar'd  :  "  I  onl)-  know, 

From  noon  till  eve  we  fought  with  foe, 

As  wild  and  as  untameablc 

As  the  rude  mountains  where  tlicy  dwell ; 

On  both  sides  store  of  blood  is  lost. 

Nor  much  success  can  either  boast."  — 

"lint  whence  thy  captives,  friend.'  such  spoil 

As  theirs  must  needs  reward  thy  toil.' 

Old  dost  thou  wax,  and  wars  grow  sharji ; 

Thou  now  hast  glee-maiden  and  harp! 

Get  thee  an  ape,  and  trudge  the  land. 

The  leader  of  a  juggler  band." — ' 

admirers;  and  his  whole  fjcnius,  and  even  his  power  of  versification, 
seems  to  desert  him  when  lie  attempts  to  repeat  llieir  conversation. 
Here  is  some  of  the  stiirt'  which  has  drojiped.  in  this  inauspicious 
attempt,  from  tlic  pen  of  one  of  the  first  poets  of  liis  age  or  country," 
etc.,  etc. — Jkkkkkv. 

>  The  MS  reads  after  this  : 

"  Oct  tlicc  an  ape,  and  then  at  once 
Thou  mayst  renounce  the  warder's  lance, 
And  trudjfe  through  borough  artd  through  I:inil, 
The  leader  of  a  juggler  band." 

-  The  jontjlenrs,  or  ju<;i,'Iers,  as  we  learn  from  I  lie  clahoratc  work 
of  the  late  Mr.  Stnitt,  on  the  sjiorts  and  pastimes  of  tlie  pcopli-  of 
England,  used  to  call  in  the  aid  of  various  assistants,  to  render  these 


Canto  VI.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  241 


VII. 

"No,  comrade  ;  —  no  such  fortune  mine. 
After  the  fight  these  sought  our  Hne, 
That  aged  harper  and  the  girl, 
And,  having  audience  of  tlie  Earl, 
Mar  bade  I  should  purvey  them  steed. 
And  bring  them  hitherward  with  speed. 


performances  as  captivating  as  possible.  The  glee-maiden  was  a 
necessary  attendant.  Her  duty  was  tumbling  and  dancing;  and 
therefore  the  Anglo-Saxon  version  of  St.  Mark's  Gospel  states 
Herodias  to  have  vaulted  or  tumbled  before  King  Herod.  In  Scot- 
land, these  poor  creatures  seem,  even  at  a  late  period,  to  have  been 
bondswomen  to  their  masters,  as  appears  from  a  case  reported  by 
Fountainhall :  "  Reid  the  mountebank  pursues  Scott  of  Harden  and 
his  lady,  for  stealmg  away  from  him  a  little  girl,  called  the  tumbling 
lassie,  that  danced  upon  his  stage;  and  he  claimed  damages,  and 
produced  a  contract,  whereby  he  bought  her  from  her  mother  for 
£30  Scots.  But  we  have  no  slaves  in  Scotland,  and  mothers  cannot 
sell  their  bairns  ;  and  pliysicians  attested  the  employment  of  tumb- 
ling would  kill  her;  and  her  joints  were  now  grown  stiff",  and  she 
declined  to  return  ;  though  she  was  at  least  a  'prentice,  and  so  could 
not  run  away  from  her  master:  yet  some  cited  Moses's  law,  that  if  a 
servant  shelter  himself  with  thee,  against  his  master's  cruelty, 
thou  shalt  surely  not  deliver  him  up.  The  Lords,  renitente  caiicel- 
Inrio,  assoilzied  Harden,  on  the  27th  of  January  (16S7)."  —  FouN- 
tainhall's  Decisions,  vol.  i.  p.  439.* 

The  facetious  qualities  of  the  ape  soon  rendered  him  an  accept- 
able addition  to  the  strolling  band  of  the  jongleur.  Ben  fonson.  in 
his  splenetic  introduction  to  the  comedy  of  "  Bartholomew  Fair,"  is 
at  pains  to  inform    the   audience  '■  that  he   has  ne'er  a   sword-and- 

*  Though  less  to  my  purpose,  I  cannot  help  noticing  a  circumstance  respecting 
another  of  this  Mr.  Reid's  attendants,  which  occurred  during  James  II. 's  zeal  for 
Catholic  proselytism,  and  is  told  by  Fountainhall,  with  dry  Scotch  irony:  "  Januarv 
17th,  16S7.  —Reid  the  mountebank  is  received  into  the  Popish  church,  and  one  of  his 
hlackamores  was  persuaded  to  accept  of  baptism  from  the  Popish  priests,  and  to 
turn  Christian  papist;  which  was  a  great  trophy;  he  was  called  James,  after  the 
king  and  chancellor,  and  the  Apostle  James."  —  Ibid.  p.  440. 


242  THE  LADY  OF    THE   LAKE.         [Canto  IV. 

I'"ui"bcar  your  luirtli  aiul  riulc  iilarni, 

For  none  shall  do;  them  shame  or  harm." 

"  Hear  ye  his  boast  ?  "  cried  John  of  ]5rcnt, 

Ever  to  strife  and  janj^ling  bent  ; 

"  Shall  he  strike  doe  beside  our  lod<;c, 

And  yet  the  jealous  niggard  grudge 

To  pay  the  forester  his  fee  ? 

I'll  have  my  share  howe'er  it  be, 

Despite  of  Moray,  Alar,  or  thee." 

Bertram  his  forward  step  withstood  ; ' 

And,  burning  in  his  vengeful  mood, 

Old  Allan,  though  unfit  for  strife, 

Laid  hand  upon  his  dagger-knife  ; 

But  Ellen  boldly  stepp'd  between, 

And  dropp'd  at  once  the  tartan  screen  : 

So  from  his  morning  cloud  appears 

The  sun  of  May,  through  sunnner  tears. 

The  savage  soldiery,  amazed,^ 

As  on  descended  angel  gazed  ; 

Even  hardy  Brent,  abash'd  and  tametl. 

Stood  half  admiring,  half  ashamed. 

buckler  man  in  his  Fair,  nor  a  jii:.;,L;lcr  witii  a  wtll-cdiicatcd  ape  to 
come  over  the  chainc  for  the  Kinjr  of  England,  and  l)aik  a^ain  for 
the  Prince,  and  sit  still  on  liis  haunches  for  the  I'ope  and  the  King 
of  Spaine." 

'   jSIS.  :  "Bertram   <      ^'^,     •  violence  withstood." 
I  such  ) 

*  MS.  :   "  While  the  rude  soldierv,  amazed." 


Canto  VI.]         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  243 


VIII. 

Boldly  she  spoke,  —  "  Soldiers,  attend ! 

My  father  was  the  soldier's  friend  ; 

Cheer'd  him  in  camps,  in  marches  led, 

And  with  him  in  the  battle  bled. 

Not  from  the  valiant,  or  the  strong, 

Should  exile's  daughter  suffer  wrong."  — 

Answer'd  De  Brent,  most  forward  still 

In  every  feat  of  good  or  ill, — 

"  I  shame  me  of  the  part  I  play'd : 

And  thou  an  outlaw's  child,  poor  maid ! 

An  outlaw  I  by  forest  laws, 

And  merry  N^edwood  knows  the  cause. 

Poor  Rose, —  if  Rose  be  living  now," — '• 

He  wiped  his  iron  eye  and  brow, — 

"  Must  bear  such  age,  I  think,  as  thou.  - 

Hear  ye.,  my  mates  ;  —  I  go  to  call 

The  Captain  of  our  v/atch  to  hall ; 

There  lies  my  halberd  on  the  floor ; 

And  he  that  steps  my  halberd  o'er, 

To  do  the  maid  injurious  part, 

My  shaft  shall  quiver  in  his  heart !  — 

Beware  loose  speech,  or  jesting  rough  : 

Ye  all  know  John  de  Brent.     Enough.'" 


'  MS.  :  "  Should  Ellen  Douglas  suffer  wrong." 
^  MS.  :  "  '  Mv  Rose,'  —  he  wiped  his  eye  and  hrow,  - 
'  Poor  Rose,  —  if  Rose  be  living  now.'  " 


11  THE   LADY  OF    THE   LAKE.         [Canto  VI. 


IX. 

Their  Captain  came,  a  p;allant  younj:^,  — 

(( )f  Tulliliardiiic's  house  he  spruny;), 

Nor  wore  he  yet  the  spurs  of  kni<;ht ; 

Gay  was  his  mien,  liis  humor  liL;ht, 

And,  though  by  courtesy  controH'cl, 

Forward  his  speech,  his  bearing  bold. 

The  high-l)orn  maiden  ill  could  brook 

The  scanning  of  his  curious  look 

And  dauntless  eye;  —  and  yet,  in  sooth, 

Young  Lewis  was  a  generous  youth  ; 

Ikit  I'^llen's  lovely  face  and  mien, 

111  suited  to  the  garb  a.id  scene, 

Might  lightly  bear  construction  strange, 

And  give  loose  fancy  scope  to  range. 

"Welcome  to  Stirling  towers,  fair  maid! 

Come  ye  to  seek  a  chamjiion's  aid, 

On  palfrey  white,  with  harper  hoar, 

Tike  errant  damoscl  of  yore.' 

Does  thy  high  quest  a  knight  require, 

Or  may  the  venture  suit  a  squire  ?  "  — 

Her  dark  eye  flash'd  ; —  she  paused  and  sigh'd,- 

"  O  what  have  I  to  do  with  pride !  — 

—  Through  scenes  of  sorrow,  shame,  and  strife, 

A  suppliant  for  a  father's  life, 

I  crave  an  audience  of  the  King. 

liehold  to  back  my  suit,  a  ring, 


Canto  VI.]  THE   LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  245 

The  royal  pledge  of  grateful  claims, 
Given  by  the  Monarch  to  Fitz-James."  ' 


X. 

The  signet-ring  young  Lewis  took, 

With  deep  respect  and  alter'd  look ; 

And  said, —  "This  ring  our  duties  own  : 

And  pardon,  if  to  worth  unknown. 

In  semblance  mean  obscurely  veil'd, 

Lady,  in  aught  my  folly  fail'd. 

Soon  as  the  day  flings  wide  his  gates. 

The  King  .shall  know  what  suitor  waits. 

Please  you,  meanwhile,  in  fitting  bower 

Repose  you  till  his  waking  hour ; 

Female  attendants  shall  obey 

Your  hest,  for  service  or  array. 

Permit  I  marshal  you  the  way." 

But,  ere  she  follow'd,  with  the  grace 

And  open  bounty  of  her  race. 

She  bade  her  slender  purse  be  shared 

Among  the  soldiers  of  the  guard. 

The  rest  with  thanks  their  guerdon  took ; 

But  Brent,  with  shy  and  awkward  look, 

On  the  reluctant  maiden's  hold 

Forced  bluntly  back  the  proffer'd  gold ;  — 

"  Forgive  a  haughty  English  heart, 

And  O  forget  its  ruder  part ! 

-  MS.  :  "  The  Monarch  gave  to  James  Fitz-James." 


2^r)  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.         [Canto  vi. 


The  vacant  purse  shall  be  my  share,' 

Which  in  my  barrct-cap  I'll  bear, 

Perchance,  in  jeoparuy  of  war. 

Where  gayer  crests  may  keep  afar." 

With  thanks, — 'twas  all  she  could,  —  the  maid 

His  rugged  courtesy  repaid. 


XI. 

When  Ellen  forth  with  Lewis  went, 
Allan  made  suit  to  John  of  Brent  : 
"  My  lady  safe,  O  let  your  grace 
Give  mc  to  sec  my  master's  face! 
His  minstrel  I, — to  share  his  doom 
Bound  from  the  cradle  to  the  tomb. 
Tenth  in  descent,  since  first  my  sires 
Waked  for  his  noble  house  their  lyres, 
Nor  one  of  all  the  race  was  known 
But  prized  its  weal  above  their  own. 
With  the  Chief's  birth  begins  our  care  ; 
Our  harj:)  must  soothe  the  infant  heir. 
Teach  the  youth  tales  of  fight,  and  grace 
His  earliest  feat  of  field  or  chase; 
In  peace,  in  war,  our  rank  we  keep, 
We  cheer  his  board,  we  soothe  his  sleep, 
Nor  leave  him  till  we  pour  our  verse, — 
A  doleful  tribute!  —  o'er  his  hearse. 


'  MS.  :  "Till-  silken  purse  shall  serve  forme, 
Ami  in  my  barrct-cap  shall  flee." 


CANTO  VI.]         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  247 


Then  let  me  share  his  captive  lot ; 
It  is  my  right  —  deny  it  not!"  — 
"  Little  we  reck,"  said  John  of  Brent, 
"  We  Southern  men,  of  long  descent ; 
Nor  wot  we  how  a  name  —  a  word  — 
Makes  clansmen  vassals  to  a  lord : 
Yet  kind  my  noble  landlord's  part,  — 
God  bless  the  house  of  Beaudesert ! 
And,  but  I  loved  to  drive  the  deer, 
More  than  to  guide  the  laboring  steer, 
I  had  not  dwelt  an  outcast  here. 
Come,  good  old  Minstrel,  follow  me ; 
Thy  Lord  and  Chieftain  shalt  thou  see." 

XII. 

Then  from  a  rusted  iron  hook, 
A  bunch  of  ponderous  keys  he  took, 
Lighted  a  torch,  and  Allan  led 
Through  grated  arch  and  passage  dread. 
Portals  they  pass'd,  where,  deep  within. 
Spoke  prisoner's  moan,  and  fetters'  din ; 
Through  rugged  vaults,'  where,  loosely  stored, 
Lay  wheel,  and  axe,  and  headsman's  sword, 
And  many  a  hideous  engine  grim, 
For  wrenching  joint,  and  crushing^  limb. 
By  artist  formed,  who  deem'd  it  shame 
And  sin  to  give  their  work  a  name, 

'^  W$>.:  '' Loxv  h road  vaults:'        ^ 
2  MS.  :   "  Stretching" 


£48  THE   T.APV  OF    77 fK   LAKE.         [Canto  Vl 


They  halted  at  a  low-brow'd  porch, 

And  Brent  to  Allan  gave  the  torch, 

While  bolt  and  chain  he  backward  roll'd, 

And  made  the  bar  unhasp  its  hold. 

They  enter'd  :  'twas  a  prison  room 

Of  stern  security  and  gloom, 

Yet  not  a  dungeon  ;  for  the  day 

Through  lofty  gratings  found  its  way, 

And  rude  and  antique  garniture 

Ueck'd  the  sad  walls  and  oaken  floor ; ' 

Such  as  the  rugged  days  of  old 

Deem'd  fit  for  captive  noble's  hold. 

"Here,"  said  De  Brent,  "thou  mayest  remain 

Till  the  Leech  visit  him  again. 

Strict  is  his  charge  the  warders  tell, 

To  tend  the  noble  prisoner  well." 

Retiring  then,  the  bolt  he  drew, 

And  the  lock's  murmurs  growl'd  anew. 

Roused  at  the  sound,  from  lowly  bed 

A  captive  feebly  raised  his  head  ; 

The  wondering  Minstrel  look'd,  and  knew  — 

Not  his  dear  lord,  but  Roderick  \)h\\  ! 

For,  come  from  wlicrc  Clan-Alpine  fought, 

They,  erring,  deem'd  the  Chief  he  sought. 

1  MS.:  "Flinty  floor." 

'  MS.  •  ■■ —  Thou  mayst  rctnaiii. 

Ami  tluti,  rrlirint^,  liolt  and  cliaiil, 

Ami  nist\  l)ar,  Ik-  tirow  ayaiii. 

Roused  at  the  sound,"  etc 


Canto  VI.]         THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  249 


XIII. 

As  the  tall  ship,  whose  lofty  prore 

Shall  never  stem  the  billows  more, 

Deserted  by  her  gallant  band. 

Amid  the  breakers  lies  astrand,  — 

So,  on  his  couch,  lay  Roderick  Dhu ! 

And  oft  his  fever'd  limbs  he  threw 

In  toss  abrupt,  as  when  her  sides 

Lie  rocking  in  the  advancing  tides, 

That  shake  her  frame  with  ceaseless  beat, 

Yet  cannot  heave  her  from  her  scat  ;  — 

O  !  how  unlike  her  course  at  sea ! ' 

Or  his  free  step  on  hill  and  lea !  — 

Soon  as  the  Minstrel  he  could  scan, 

"  What  of  thy  lady  ?  —  of  my  clan  ?  — ■ 

My  mother  ?  —  Douglas  ?  —  tell  me  all  ! 

Have  they  been  ruin'd  in  my  fall  ? 

Ah,  yes  !  or  wherefore  art  thou  here  ! 

Yet  speak,  —  speak  boldly,  —  do  not  fear."  — 

(For  Allan,  who  his  mood  well  knew, 

Was  choked  with  grief  and  terror  too.) 

"  Who  fought  — •  who  fled  },  —  Old  man,  be  brief ; 

Some  might — 'for  they  had  lost  their  Chief,, 

Who  basely  live .-'  —  who  bravely  died  V  — 

"O,  calm  thee.  Chief!"  —  the  Minstrel  cried, 

MS. :  "  O  !  how  unlike  her  course  on  main  ; 
Or  his  free  step  on  hill  and  plain!  " 


250  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.         [Canto  VL 


"  Ellen  is  safe  ;  "  —  "  Vy)X  that,  tliank  I  leaven  !  '  — 

"And  hopes  arc  lor  the  Douglas  given  ;  - 

The  Lady  Margaret  too  is  well, 

And,  for  thy  clan,  —  on  field  or  fell, 

Has  ne\er  harp  of  minstrel  told,' 

Of  combat  fought  so  true  and  bold, 

Thy  stately  Pine  is  yet  unbent. 

Though  many  a  goodly  bough  is  rent." 

XIV. 

The  Chieftain  rcar'd  his  form  on  high. 

And  fever's  fire  was  in  his  eye; 

But  ghastly,  pale,  and  livid  streaks 

Chcckcr'd  his  swarthy  brow  and  cheeks. 

—  "  Hark,  Minstrel!  I  have  heard  thee  play, 

With  measure  bold,  on  festal  day, 

In  yon  lone  isle,  .  .   .  again  where  ne'er 

Shall  harper  play,  or  warrior  hear !  .  .  . 

That  stirring  air  that  peals  on  high. 

O'er  Dermid's  race  our  victory.  — 

Strike  it!-  —  and  then,  (U)X  well  thou  canst,) 

'   MS.  :    "  Sli.'ill   iicxn    ii.iiji  III   iiMii'-ljil  U'll, 

Of  combat  fouglit  so  fierce  ami  well." 

'  TluTc  are  several  instances,  at  least  in  tradition,  of  persons  so 
much  attached  to  particular  tunes,  as  to  require  to  iiear  them  on  their 
(feathhetl.  Such  an  anecdote  is  mentioned  hv  the  !ate  Mr.  Riddel  of 
Glenriddel.  in  his  collectif)n  of  Horder  tunes,  respeiMini;  an  air 
ralleil  the  "  I)andlin<4  of  the  I'airns,"  for  wln'cli  a  certain  Gallcvidian 
laird  is  said  to  have  evinced  this  stron-,'  mark  of  partialitv,  Tt  is 
popularly  told  of  a  famous  freebooter,  tiiiit  he  composed  the  tunc 


Canto  VI.]  THE  LADY'  OF   THE  LAKE-  2? I 


Free  from  thy  minstrel-spirit  glanced, 

Fling  me  the  picture  of  the  fight, 

When  met  my  clan  the  Saxon  might. 

I'll  listen  till  my  fancy  hears 

The  clang  of  swords,  the  crash  of  spears ! 

These  grates,  these  walls,  shall  vanish  then. 

For  the  fair  field  of  fighting  men. 


known  hy  the  name  of  Macphei-son's  Rant,  while  under  sentence  of 
death,  and  ph\_ycd  it  at  the  gallows-tree.  Some  spirited  words  have 
been  adapted  to  it  by  Burns.  A  similar  story  is  recounted  of  a 
Welsh  bard,  who  composed  and  played  on  his  deathbed  the  air 
called  Dafyddy  Garregg  Wen.  But  the  most  curious  example  is 
given  by  Brantome,  of  a  maid  of  honor  at  the  court  of  France, 
entitled,  Mademoiselle  de  Limeuil.  "Durant  sa  maladie,  dont  elle 
trespassa,  jamais  elle  ne  cessa,  ains  causa  tousjours ;  car  elle  estoit 
fort  grande  parleuse,  brocardeuse,  et  tres-bien  et  fort  a  propos,  et 
tres-belle  avec  cela.  Qiiand  I'heure  de  sa  fin  fut  venue,  elle  fit  venir 
a  soy  son  valet  (ainsi  que  le  filles  de  la  cour  en  ont  chacune  un),  qui 
s'appelloit  Julien,  et  scavoit  tres-bien  joiier  du  violon.  'Julien,'  luy 
dit  elle,  '  prenez  vostre  violon,  et  sonnez  moy  tousjours  jusques  a  ce 
que  me  voyez  morte  (car  je  m'y  en  vais)  la  defaite  des  Suisses,  et  le 
mieux  que  vous  pourrez,  et  quand  vous  serez  sur  le  mot,  '  Tout  est 
perdu,'  sonnez  le  par  quatre  ou  cing  fois  le  plus  piteusement  que 
vous  pourrez,  ce  qui  fit  I'autre,  et  ellemesme  luy  adoit  de  la  voix,  et 
quand  ce  vint  'tout  est  perdu,' elle  le  reitera  par  deux  fois;  et  se 
tournant  de  I'autre  coste  du  chevet.  elle  dit  \  ses  compagnes :  '  Tout 
est  perdu  a  ce  coup,  et  a  bon  escient;  ^t  ainsi  deceda.  Voila  une 
morte  joyeuse  et  plaisante.  Je  tiens  se  conte  de  deux  de  ses  compagnes 
dignes  de  foi,  qui  virent  jouer  ce  mystere." —  Ocuvres  de  Brantome, 
i\\.  507.  The  tune  to  which  this  fair  lady  chose  to  make  her  final 
exit  was  composed  on  the  defeat  of  the  Swiss  at  Marignano.  The 
burden  is  quoted  by  Panurge,  m  Rabelais,  and  consists  of  these  words, 
miitating  the  jargon  of  ■'he  Swiss,  which  is  a  mixture  of  French  and 
German  — 

•Tout  est  verlore 
La  Tintelore, 
Tout  est  verlore,  bi  Got !  " 


252  THE   LADY  OF    TjIE   LAKE.         fCANm  VI 


And  my  free  spirit  burst  away, 

As  if  it  soar'd  from  battle  fray." 

The  trembling  liard  with  awe  obey'd,  — 

Slow  on  the  harp  his  hand  he  laid  ; 

But  soon  remembrance  of  the  sight 

He  witness'd  from  the  mountain's  height, 

With  what  old  Bertram  told  at  night,' 

Awaken'd  the  full  power  of  song, 

And  bore  him  in  career  along  ;  — 

As  shallop  launch'd  on  river's  tide, 

That  slow  ar.d  fearful  leaves  the  side, 

lUit  when  it  feels  the  middle  stream, 

Drives  downward  swift  as  lightning's  beam. 

XV. 

I5ATTI.K    f)|-    liKAI.'    AN    DLINr..- 

"The  Minstrel  came  onee  more  to  \  iew 
The  eastern  ridge  of  15envenue, 
For  ere  he  parted  he  would  say 
Farewell  to  lovely  Loch  Achray  — 

'   Tlio  MS.  li;is  not  lliis  line. 

-  A  skirinisli  actually  took  place  at  a  pass  thus  called  in  tlio 
Trosaciis,  and  closeii  with  the  remarkable  incitlent  mcutioueil  in  the 
text.     It  was  greatly  posterior  in  date  to  the  reipii  of  James  V. 

"In  this  rouyhly-wooded  island,*  the  country  people  secreted 
their  wives  and  children,  nnii  their  most  valuable  efTects  from  the 
rapacity  of  Cromwell's  soldiers,  during  their  inroad  into  this  coun- 
try, in  the  tinie  of  the  republic,  'i'hese  invaders  not  vcnturin;^  t»» 
ascend  by  the  ladilers,  alouLC  the  side  of  the  laki-.  took  a  more  cir> 
cuitous  road  throutjh  the  heart  of  the  Trosachs,  the  most  frecpiented 

*  That  at  the  ca&tcrii  extremity  of  J.,<>ch  Katrine,  su  ufleii  ineiiUoiied  in  the  text. 


Canto  VI.]  THE   LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  253 


Where  shall  he  fijul  in  foreign  land, 
So  lone  a  lake,  so  sweet  a  strand!  — 
There  is  no  breeze  upon  the  fern 

No  ripple  on  the  lake, 
Upon  her  cyry  nods  the  erne, 

The  deer  has  sought  the  brake  ; 
The  small  birds  will  not  sing  aloud 

The  springing  trout  lies  still. 
So  darkly  glooms  yon  thunder-cloud, 
That  swathes,  as  with  a  purple  shroud 

Benledi's  distant  hill. 

path  at  that  time,  which  penetrates  the  wilderness  about  halfway 
between  Binean  and  the  lake,  by  a  tract  called  Yea-chilleach,  or  the 
Old  Wife's  Bog. 

"  In  one  of  the  defiles  of  this  by-road,  the  men  of  the  country  at 
that  time  hung  upon  the  rear  of  the  invading  enemy,  and  shot  one 
of  Cromwell's  men,  whose  grave  marks  the  scene  of  action,  and 
gives  name  to  that  pass.*  In  revenge  of  this  insult,  the  soldiers 
resolved  to  plunder  the  island,  to  violate  the  women,  and  put  the 
children  to  death.  With  this  brutal  intention,  one  of  the  party, 
more  expert  than  the  rest,  swam  towards  the  island,  to  fetch  the 
boat  to  his  comrades,  which  had  carried  the  women  to  their  asylum, 
and  lay  moored  in  one  of  the  creeks.  His  companions  stood  on  the 
shore  of  the  mainland,  in  full  view  of  all  that  was  to  pass,  waiting 
anxiously  for  his  return  with  the  boat.  But  just  as  the  swimmer 
had  got  to  the  nearest  point  of  the  island,  and  Avas  laying  hold  of  a 
black  rock,  to  get  on  shore,  a  heroine,  who  stood  on  the  very  point 
where  he  meant  to  land,  hastily  snatching  a  dagger  from  below  her 
apron,  with  one  stroke  severed  his  head  from  the  body.  His  party 
seeing  this  disaster,  and  relinquishing  all  future  hope  of  revenge  or 
conquest,  made  the  best  of  their  waj'  out  of  their  perilous  situation. 
This  amazon's  great  grandson  lives  at  the  Bridge  of  Turk,  who,  besides 
others,  attests  the  anecdote."  ^ — Sl-ctch  of  the  Scenery  near  Callen- 
(fcr,  Stirling,  1S06,  p.  20.  I  have  only  to  add  to  this  account,  that 
the  heroine's  name  was  Helen  Stuart. 

*  Beallach  an  duine. 


254  THE   T.ADY  OF    TUF.    I.AKF.         [Canto  M- 


Is  it  tlic  tlnimler's  solemn  sounci 

That  imittcrs  deep  and  dread, 
Or  echoes  from  the  groanhi^  ground 

The  warrior's  measured  tread  ? 
Is  it  the  liglitning's  quivering  glance 

That  on  the  tliicket  streams, 
Or  do  they  flasli  on  spear  and  lance 

The  sun's  retiring  beams? 
—  I  sec  the  dagger-crest  of  Mar, 
I  sec  the  Moray's  silver  star, 
Wave  o'er  the  cloud  of  Saxon  war, 
That  up  the  lake  comes  winding  far! 
To  hero  boune  for  battle-strife, 

Or  bard  of  martial  lay, 
'Twcre  worth  ten  years  of  peaceful  life 

One  glance  at  their  array. 


XVI. 

"Their  Hght-arm'd  archers  far  and  near 

Survey'd  the  tangled  ground. 
Their  centre  ranks,  with  pike  and  spear. 

A  twilight  forest  frown'd. 
Their  barbed  horsemen,  in  the  rear, 

The  stern  battalia  crown'd. 
No  cymbal  clash'  1,  no  clarion  rang, 

Still  were  the  pi]ie  and  drum  ; 
Save  heavy  tread,  and  armor's  clang. 

The  sullen  march  was  dumb. 


Canto  VI.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE-  255 


There  breathed  110  wind  their  erests  to  shake. 

Or  wave  their  flags  abroad  ; 
Scarce  the  frail  aspen  seem'd  to  quake, 

That  shadow'd  o'er  their  road. 
Their  vaward  scouts  no  tidings  bring, 

Can  rouse  no  lurking  foe, 
Nor  spy  a  trace  of  living  thing 

Save  when  they  stirr'd  the  roe ; 
The  host  moves,  like  a  deep-sea  wave> 
Where  rise  no  rocks  its  pride  to  brave. 
High-swelling,  dark,  and  slow. 
The  lake  is  pass'd,  and  now  they  gain 
A  narrow  and  a  broken  plain, 
Before  the  Trosach's  rugged  jaws  : 
And  here  the  horse  and  spearmen  pause. 
While,  to  explore  the  dangerous  glen, 
Dive  through  the  pass  the  archer-men. 


XVII. 

"  At  once  there  rose  so  wild  a  yell 
Within  that  dark  and  narrow  dell, 
As  all  the  fiends,  from  heaven  that  fell, 
Had  peal'd  the  banner-cry  of  hell ! 

Forth  from  the  pass  in  tumult  driven, 
Like  chaff  before  the  wind  of  heaven, 

The  archery  appear ; 
For  life!  for  life!  their  flight  they  ply- 
And  shriek,  and  shout,  and  battle-cry, 


25^  THE  LADY  OF    lllE   LAKE.         [Canto  \I. 


And  plaids  and  bonnets  vvavinj;  hij^h, 
And  broadswords  flashing  to  tlic  sky, 

Are  maddeninj^  in  the  rear. 
Onward  they  drive  in  dreadful  race, 

I'ursuers  and  pursued  ; 
Before  that  tide  of  fiiy;ht  and  chase, 
How  shall  it  keep  its  rooted  i^lace, 

The  spearmen's  twilii^ht  wood  ?  — 
'  Down,  down,'  cried  Mar,  '  your  lances  down  ! 

Bear  back  both  friend  and  foe! ' 
Like  reeds  before  the  tempest's  frown, 
That  serried  grove  of  lances  brown 

At  once  lay  levell'd  low  ; 
And  closely  shouldering  side  to  side, 
The  bristling  ranks  the  onset  bide. — 
'We'll  quell  the  savage  mountaineer, 

As  their  Tinchel^  cows  the  game! 
They  come  as  fleet  as  forest  deer. 

We'll  drive  them  back  as  tame 

X\TIl. 

"Bearing  liefore  them,  in  tlieir  c<un"sc. 
The  relics  of  the  archer  force, 
Like  wave  with  crest  of  sparkling  foam, 
Right  onward  did  Clan-Alpine  come. 

'  The  MS.  li.Ts  not  this  couplet. 

'■^  A  circle  of  s]>ortMneii.  who,  \>\  Mirroiiiiiiiiii;  a  Ljrcat  sp.n(  c,  ami 
T.njliiall  V  iiarrowiiitj.  broiiLthI  imiiinisf  qitaiil  itics  of  deer  loyethcr, 
whicli  UMially  tiiaJc  desperate  elTorts  to  break   IhrouL'li  the  'J'iiic/irt. 


Canto  VI.J         THE    LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  2^y 


Above  the  tide  each  broadsword  bright 
Was  brandishing  Hke  beam  of  light, 

Each  targe  was  dark  below  ; 
And  with  the  ocean's  mighty  swing, 
When  heaving  to  the  tempest's  wing, 
They  hurl'd  them  on  the  foe. 
I  heard  the  lance's  shivering  crash, 
As  when  the  whirlwind  rends  the  ash, 
I  heard  the  broadsword's  deadly  clang. 
As  if  an  hundred  anvils  rang ! 
But  Moray  wheel'd  his  rearward  rank 
Of  horsemen  on  Clan-Alpine's  flank, 
—  *  My  banner-man,  advance ! 
I  see,'  he  cried,  'their  column  shake. 
Now,  gallants !  for  your  ladies'  sake. 

Upon  them  with  the  lance  ! '  — 
The  horsemen  dashed  among  the  rout. 

As  deer  break  through  the  broom  ; 
Their  steeds  are  stout,  their  swords  are  out 

They  soon  make  lightsome  room. 
Clan-Alpine's  best  are  backward  borne  — 

Where,  where  was  Roderick  then  ! 
One  blast  upon  his  bugle  horn 
Were  worth  a  thousand  men. 
And  refluent  through  the  pass  of  fear  ' 
The  battle's  tide  was  pour'd  ; 

i  MS.  :  "  And  refluent  down  the  darksome  pass 
The  battle's  tide  was  pour'd ; 
There  toil'd  the  spearman's  struggling  spear. 
There  raged  the  mountain  sword." 


258  THE   LADY  OF    THE   LAKE.         [Canto  V[. 

VanishM  the  Saxon's  struggling  spear, 

Vanish'd  the  mountain  sword. 
As  IJrackHnn's  chasm,  so  black  and  steep, 

Receives  her  roaring  linn, 
As  the  dark  caverns  of  the  deep 
Suck  the  wild  whirlpool  in, 
So  did  the  deep  and  darksome  pass 
Devour  the  battle's  mingled  mass  : 
None  linger  now  upon  the  plain, 
Save  those  who  ne'er  shall  fight  again. 


XIX. 

"  Now  westward  rolls  the  battle's  din. 
That  deep  and  doubling  pass  within, 
—  Minstrel,  away  !  the  work  of  fate  ' 
Is  bearing  on  :  its  issue  wait,  . 
Where  the  rude  Trosach's  dread  defile 
Opens  on  Katrine's  lake  and  i.sle.  — 
Gray  Iknvenue  I  soon  repass'd, 
Loch  Katrine  lay  beneath  me  cast. 

The  sun  is  set ; — the  clouds  are  met 
The  lowering  scowl  of  heaven 

An  inky  view  of  vivitl  blue 
To  the  deep  lake  is  given  ; 
Strange  gusts  of  wind  from  mountain  glen 
Swept  o'er  the  lake,  then  sunk  agen. 

'  MS.  :  "  Away  !  away  I  tlic  work  of  fate  !  " 


Canto  VI.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  259 


I  heeded  not  the  eddying  surge, 
Mine  eye  but  saw  the  Trosach's  gorge. 
Mine  ear  but  heard  the  sullen  sound, 
Which  like  an  earthquake  shook  the  ground, 
And  spoke  the  stern  and  desperate  strife 
That  parts  not  but  with  parting  life,' 
Seeming,  to  minstrel  ear,  to  toll  ^ 
The  dirge  of  many  a  passing  soul, 

Nearer  it  comes  —  the  dim-wood  glen 
The  martial  flood  disgorged  agen, 

But  not  in  mingled  tide ; 
The  plaided  warriors  of  the  North 
High  on  the  mountain  thunder  forth 

And  overhang  its  side  ; 
While  by  the  lake  below  appears 
The  dark'ning  cloud  of  Saxon  spears.' 
At  weary  bay  each  shatter'd  band. 
Eyeing  their  foeman,  sternly  stand  ; 
Their  banners  stream  like  tatter'd  sail, 
That  flings  its  fragments  to  the  gale, 
And  broken  arms  and  disarray 
Mark'd  the  fell  havoc  of  the  day. 

1     — ,  "  the  loveliness  in  death 
That  parts  not  quite  with  parting  breath." 

Byron's  Giaour. 

^  MS.  :  "And  seem'd  to  minstrel  ear,  to  toll 
The  parting  dirge  of  many  a  soul." 

■■*  MS.  :  "  While  by  the  darken'd  lake  below, 
File  out  the  spearmen  of  the  foe." 


26o  THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.         [Canto  vi 


XX. 

"  Viewing  the  mountain's  ridge  askance, 
Tlie  Saxon  stood  in  sullen  trance, 
Till  Moray  pointed  with  his  lance, 

And  cried  —  'liehold  yon  isle!  — 
See !  none  are  left  to  guard  its  strand, 
But  women  weak,  that  wring  the  hand ! 
'Tis  there  of  yore  the  robber  band 

Their  booty  wont  to  pile;  — 
My  purse,  with  bonnet-i:)ieces  store. 
To  him  will  swim  a  bow-shot  o'er. 
And  loose  a  shallop  from  the  shore. 
Lightly  we'll  tame  the  war-wolf  then, 
Lords  of  his  mate  and  brood,  and  den.* 
Forth  from  the  ranks  a  spearman  sprung, 
On  earth  his  casque  and  corslet  rung, 

He  plunged  him  in  the  wave;  — 
All  saw  the  deed  —  the  purpose  knew, 
And  to  their  clamors  ]ienvcnue 

A  mingled  echo  gave; 
The  Sa.xon  shout,  their  mate  to  cheer, 
The  heljiless  females  scream  for  fear. 
And  yells  for  rage  the  mountaineer. 
'Twas  then,  as  by  the  outcry  riven, 
Pour'd  down  at  once  the  lowering  heaven  ; 
A  whirlwind  swept  Loch  Katrine's  breast, 
Her  billows  rear'd  their  snowy  crest. 


Canto  VI.l  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  26 1 

Well  for  the  swimmer  swcllVl  they  high, 
To  mar  the  Highland  marksman's  eye  ; 
For  round  him  shower'd,  'mid  rain  and  hail 
The  vengeful  arrows  of  the  Gael.  — 
In  vain.  —  He  nears  the  isle  — and  lo  ! 
His  hand  is  on  a  shallop's  bow. 
'  — Just  then  a  flash  of  lightning  came, 
It  tinged  the  waves  and  strand  with  flame  •- —  ' 
I  mark'd  Duncraggan's  widow'd  dame. 
Behind  an  oak  I  saw  her  stand, 
A  naked  dirk  gleam'd  in  her  hand  ;  — 
It  darken'd,  —  but  amid  the  moan 
Of  waves  I  heard  a  dying  groan  ;  — 
Another  flash  !  —  the  spearman  floats 
A  weltering  corse  beside  the  boats. 
And  the  stern  Matron  o'er  him  stood. 
Her  hand  and  dagger  streaming  blood. 

XXI. 

"  *  Revenge  !  revenge  ! '  the  Saxons  cried, 
The  Gaels'  exulting  shout  replied. 
Despite  the  elemental  rage. 
Again  they  hurried  to  engage  ; 
But  ere  they  closed  in  desperate  fight, 
Bloody  with  spurring  came  a  knight. 
Sprung  from  his  horse,  and,  from  a  crag. 
Waved,  twixt  the  hosts  a  milk-white  flag. 

^  MS.  reads  :   "  It  tinged  the  boats  and  lake  with  flame."     The  eight 
closing  lines  of  the  stanza  are  interpolated  on  a  slip  of  paper. 


262  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.         I^anto  VL 


Clarion  and  trumpet  by  his  side 

Rung  forth  a  trucc-notc  hi_i;h  and  wide, 

While,  in  the  Monarch's  name,  afar 

A  lierald's  voice  forbade  the  war, 

For  Bothwell's  lord,  and  Roderick  bold, 

Were  both,  he  said,  in  captive  hold." 

—  But  here  the  lay  made  sudden  stand. 

The  harp  escaped  the  Minstrel's  hand  !  — 

Oft  had  he  stolen  a  glance,  to  spy 

How  Roderick  brook'd  his  minstrelsy  : 

At  first,  the  Chieftain,  to  the  chime, 

With  lifted  hand  kept  feeble  time  : 

That  motion  ceased,  —  yet  feeling  strong 

Varied  his  look  as  changed  the  sound ; ' 

At  length,  no  more  his  deafen'd  ear 

The  minstrel  melody  can  hear  ; 

His  face  grows  sharp,  —  his  hands  arc  clench'd, 

As  if  some  pang  his  heart-strings  wrench'd  ; 

Set  arc  his  teeth,  his  fading  eye  ^ 

Is  sternly  fixed  on  vacancy  ; 

Thus,  motionless,  and  moanlcss,  drew 

His  parting  breath,  stout  Roderick  Dim  !  —  ^ 


'   MS.  :  "  Glowed  in  his  look,  as  swcll'd  tiie  song. 
MS. '-hi' 


f  ijlaziiitr  1 


'(      fary      / 

»  "Rob  Roy.  wliilc  on  his  dcathhcd,  li-arncd  that  a  person,  willi 
whom  he  was  at  enmity,  proposed  to  vi-it  liim.  '  Raise  me  from 
my  bed,' Raid  the  invalid;  'tlirow  my  plaid  around  mc.  and  bring 
me  mv  clavmore,  dirk  and  pistols,  —  it  sliall  never  he  said  that  a 
foeman  saw  Rob  Roy  .MaeCJreijor  defeiueless  and  unarmed.'  I  lis 
focman,  conjeclnrcil  to  be  or*:  of  the   MacLarens  before  and   after 


Canto  VI.]         THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  263 

Old  Allan-Bane  look'd  on  aghast, 
While  grim  and  still  his  spirit  pass'd ; 
But  when  he  saw  that  life  was  fled, 
He  poLir'd  his  wailing  o'er  the  dead. 


XXII. 

LAMENT. 

"And  art  thou  cold  and  lowly  laid,' 

Thy  foeman's  dread,  thy  people's  aid, 

Breadalbane's  boast,  Clan- Alpine's  shade  ! 

For  thee  shall  none  a  requiem  say } 

—  For  thee, — who  loved  the  minstrel's  lay. 

For  thee  of  Bothwell's  house  the  stay, 

The  shelter  of  her  exiled  line,^ 

E'en  in  this  prison-house  of  thine, 

I'll  wail  for  Alpine's  honor'd  Pine. 

"  What  groans  shall  yonder  valleys  fill ! 
What  shrieks  of  grief  shall  rend  yon  hill ! 
What  tears  of  burning  rage  shall  thrill, 


mentioned,  entered  and  paid  liis  compliments,  enquiring  after  the 
health  of  his  formidable  neighbor.  Rob  Roy  maintained  a  cold, 
haughty  civility  during  their  short  conference;  and  so  sooi  as  he 
had  left  the  house,  '  Now,'  he  said,  '  all  is  over  —  let  the  piper  play, 
Ha  til  mi  tulidJi''  [we  return  no  more],  and  he  is  said  to  have 
expired  before  the  dirge  was  finislied."  —  Introduction  to  Rob  Roy, 
Waverley  Novels,  vol.  vii.  p.  85. 

1  MS.  :   "  '  And  art  thou  gone,'  the  Minstrel  said." 

2  MS.  :  "  The  mightiest  of  a  mighty  ling." 


264  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.         [Canto  VL 

When  mourns  thy  tribe  thy  battles  done, 
Thy  fall  before  tiie  race  was  won, 
Thy  sword  ungirt  ere  set  of  sim  ! 
There  breathes  not  clansman  of  th\-  line, 
ViWX.  would  have  given  his  life  for  thine.  — 
O  woe  for  Alpine's  honor'd  Pine! 

"  Sad  was  thy  lot  on  mortal  stage  !  — 
The  captive  thrush  may  brook  the  cage, 
The  prison'd  eagle  dies  for  rage. 
Jkave  spirit,  do  not  scorn  my  strain ! 
And,  when  its  notes  awake  again. 
Even  she,  so  long  beloved  in  vain. 
Shall  with  my  harp  iier  voice  combine. 
And  mix  her  woe  and  tears  with  mine, 
To  wail  Clan  Alpine's  honor'd  I'inc." 

xxiri. 

Ellen,  the  while,  with  bursting  heart, 
Rcmain'd  in  lordly  bower  apart. 
Where  play'd,  with  many-color'd  gleams, 
Through  storied  pane  the  rising  beams. 
In  vain  on  gilded  roof  they  fall, 
And  lighten'd  up  a  tapestried  wall, 
And  for  her  use  a  menial  train 
A  rich  collation  spread  in  vain. 
The  banquet  proud,  the  chamber  gray, ' 
Scarce  drew  one  curious  glance  astray; 

'   MS.  :   "  Tlic  Ii.Tiu|iic"t  li.iy,  the  chamber's  pride, 
Scarce  drew  one  curious  glance  aside." 


Canto  VI.]  THE    LADY  OF   THE  LAKE.  265 

Or,  if  she  look'd,  'twas  but  to  say. 

With  better  omen  dawn'd  the  day 

In  that  lor  z  isle,  where  waved  on  high 

The  dun-deer's  hide  for  canopy  ; 

Where  oft  her  noble  father  shared 

The  simple  meal  her  care  prepared, 

While  Lufra,  crouching  by  her  side, 

Her  station  claim'd  with  jealous  pride, 

And  Douglas,  bent  on  woodland  game,' 

Spoke  of  the  chase  to  Malcolm  Graeme, 

Whose  answer  oft  at  random  made, 

The  wandering  of  his  thoughts  betrayed.  — 

Those  who  such  simple  joys  have  known, 

Are  taught  to  prize  them  when  they're  gone 

But  sudden,  see,  she  lifts  her  head ! 

The  window  seeks  with  cautious  tread. 

What  distant  music  has  the  power 

To  win  her  in  this  woful  hour ! 

'Twas  from  a  turret  that  o'erhung 

Her  latticed  bower,  the  strain  was  srmg. 

XXIV. 

LAY    OF    THE    IMPRISONED    HUNTSMAN. 

"  My  hawk  is  tired  of  perch  and  hood, 
My  idle  greyhound  loathes  his  food. 
My  horse  is  weary  of  his  stall, 
And  I  am  sick  of  captive  thrall. 

I  MS,  :  "Earnest  on  his  game.'' 


266  THE  LADY  OF    J I  IK   LAKE.  [Canto  VI. 

I  wish  I  were  as  I  have  l)een, 
Hunting  the  hart  in  forest  green, 
With  bended  bow  and  bloodhound  free, 
For  that's  the  life  is  meet  for  nie. ' 
I  liate  to  learn  the  ebb  of  time, 
From  yon  dull  -  steeple's  drowsy  chime. 
Or  mark  it  as  the  sunbeams  crawl. 
Inch  after  incli,  along  the  wall. 
The  lark  was  wont  my  matins  ring, ' 
The  sable  rook  my  vespers  sing ; 
These  towers,  although  a  king's  they  be, 
Have  not  a  hall  of  joy  for  mc* 
No  more  at  dawning  morn  I  rise, 
And  sun  myself  in  ICUen's  eyes. 
Drive  the  fleet  deer  the  forest  through. 
And  homeward  wend  with  evening  dew 
A  blithesome  welcome  blithely  meet. 
And  lay  my  trophies  at  her  feet 
While  fled  the  eve  on  wing  of  glee, — 
That  life  is  lost  to  love  and  mc!" 


XXV. 

That  heart-sick  lay  was  hardly  said, 
The  list'ncr  had  not  tuin'd  her  head, 


'  M.S.  :  " was  meant  for  me." 

2  MS.  :   "  From  d.irkcnM  steeple's." 

'  MS.  :  "  The  li.t-ly  lark  my  matins  rnnjj, 

Tlio  sable  if)ok  mv  vespers  sim-j^." 
*  MS.  :   "  Have  not  a  lial'  should  harbor  nic- 


Canto  VI.]  THE  LADY  OF    THE  LAKE.  267 

It  trickled  still,^the  starting  tear, 
Wlien  light  a  footstep  struck  her  ear, 
And  Snowdoun's  graceful  knight  was  near. 
She  turn'd  the  hastier,  lest  again 
The  prisoner  should  renew  his  strain. 
"  O  welcome,  brave  Fitz-James  !  "  she  said, 
"  How  may    an  almost  orphan  maid 

Pay  the  deep  debt "O  say  not  so ! 

To  me  no  gratitude  you  owe. 

Not  mine,  alas !  the  boon  to  give, 

And  bid  thy  noble  father  live  ; 

I  can  but  be  thy  guide,  sweet  maid, 

With  Scotland's  King  thy  suit  to  aid. 

No  tyrant  he,  though  ire  and  pride 

May  lay  his  better  mood  aside. 

Come,  Ellen,  come  !  —  'tis  more  than  timCj 

He  holds  his  court  at  morning  prime." 

With  beating  heart,  and  bosom  wrung, 

As  to  a  brother's  arm  she  clung, 

Gently  he  dried  the  falling  tear. 

And  gently  whisper'd  hope  and  cheer; 

Her  faltering  steps  half  led,  half  stay'd, 

Through  gallery  fair  aiid  high  arcade, 

Till,  at  his  touch,  its  wings  of  pride 

A  portal  arch  unfolded  wide. 


268  rilE    LAPy  OF    11  IE   I.AKi:.         [Canto  VI. 


xxvr. 

Within  'twas  l)rilliant  all  and  liicht,"  ' 
A  tlironi^ing  scene  of  figures  bright ; 
It  glow'd  on  Ellen's  dazzled  sight, 
As  when  the  setting  sun  has  given 
Ten  thousand  hues  to  summer  e\en, 
And  from  their  tissue,  fancy  frames 
Aerial  knights  and  fairy  dames. 
Still  by  Fitz-James  her  footing  stay'd  ; 
A  few  faint  steps  shO  forward  made, 
Then  slow  her  drooping  head  she  raised, 
And  fearful  round  the  presence  gazed  ; 
For  him  she  sought,  who  own'd  this  state,' 
The  dreaded  prince  whose  will  was  fate!  — 
She  gazed  on  many  a  princely  jiort, 
Might  well  have  ruled  a  royal  court ; 
On  many  a  splendid  garb  she  gazed, — 
Then  turn'd  bewilder'd  and  amazed. 
For  all  stood  bare  ;  and,  in  the  room, 
Fitz-James  al"ne  wore  cap  and  plume, 
To  him  each  lady's  looic  was  lent  ; 
On  him  each  courtier's  eye  was  lient ; 
Midst  furs  and  silks  and  jewels  sheen, 
Kc  stood  in  simple  Lincoln  green, 


•   MS.  :   "  Within  'twas  brilli.int  all,  and  brijjht 

The  vision  ^^lowM  on  Klk-n'.<  siyht." 

2  MS.  :  "  For  hii'i  wiio  owr.'c!  this  royal  stale." 


Canio  vi.l  THE  LAT^V  OF   THE  LAKE.  269 


The  centre  of  the  glittering  ring.  — 

And  Snowdoun's  Knight  is  Scotland's  King!* 


XXVII. 

As  wreath  of  snow,  on  mountain-breast, 

Slides  from  the  rock  that  gave  it  rest. 

Poor  Ellen  glided  from  her  stay,^ 

And  at  the  Moaarch's  feet  she  lay ; 

No  word  her  choking  voice  commands, — 

She  show'd  the  ling  —  she  clasp'd  her  hands. 

O  !  not  a  moment  could  he  brook, 

The  generous  prince,  that  suppliant  look ! 

Gently  he  raised  her,  —  and,  the  while, 

Check'd  with  a  glance  the  circle's  smile  ; 

Graceful,  but  grave,  her  brow  he  kiss'd, 

And  bade  her  terrors  be  dismiss'd  : 

"  Yes,  Fair  ;  the  wandering  poor  Fitz-James 

The  fealty  of  Scotland  claims. 

To  him  thy  woes,  thy  wishes,  bring; 

He  will  redeem  his  signet-ring. 

Ask  nought  for  Douglas  ;  —  yester  even, 

His  prince  and  he  have  much  forgiven  : 

Wrong  hath  he  had  from  slanderous  tongue, 

I,  from  his  rebel  kinsmen  wrong. 

We  would  not  to  the  vTalgar  crowd 

Yield  Vv^hat  they  craved  with  clamor  loud ; 


1  See  Appendix,  Note  Q^ 

2  MS.         —  "  shrinking,  quits  her  stay. 


270  THE   LADY  OF    THE   LAKE.         [Canto  VI. 

Calmly  \\c  heard  ami  iiKl<;cd  his  cause, 

Our  council  aiticd,  and  our  laws. 

I  stanch'd  thy  father's  death-feud  stern, 

With  stout  I)e  \'aux  and  Grey  Glencairn; 

And  Bothwell's  Lord  henceforth  \vc  own 

The  friend  and  bulwark  of  our  Tlirone. — 

Ikit,  lovely  infidel,  how  now  ? 

What  clouds  thy  misbelieving  brow? 

Lord  James  of  Douglas,  lend  thine  aid  ; 

Thou  must  confirm  this  doubting  maid." 


XXVIII. 

Then  forth  the  noble  Douglas  .sprung, 

And  on  his  neck  his  daughter  hung. 

The  monarch  drank,  that  happy  hour. 

The  sweetest,  holiest  draught  of  Power, — 

WHicn  it  can  say,  with  godlike  voice, 

Arise,  sad  virtue,  antl  rejoice ! 

Yet  would  not  James  the  general  eye 

On  Nature's  raptures  long  should  jiry  ; 

He  stepp'd  between  —  "Nay,  Douglas,  nay, 

Steal  not  my  proselyte  away ! 

The  riddle  'tis  my  right  to  read, 

That  brought  this  hajipy  chance  to  speed. — 

Yes,  Lllen,  when,  disguised,  I  stray 

In  life's  more  low  but  hajipier  way,' 

'   MS.  :   "  In  l()\vl_\'  life's  iMoic  li;ipp\'  w.iy." 


Canto  VI.]  THE  LADY  OF   THE   LAKE.  27 1 


'Tis  under  name  whieh  veils  my  power, 

Nor  falsely  veils  —  for  Stirling's  tower 

Of  yore  the  name  of  Snowdoun  claims/ 

And  Normans  call  me  James  Fitz-James. 

Thus  watch  I  o'er  insulted  laws, 

Thus  learn  to  right  the  injured  cause." — - 

Then,  in  a  tone  apart  and  low, 

—  "Ah,  little  trait'ress  !  none  must  know 

What  idle  dream,  what  lighter  thought, 

What  vanity  full  dearly  bought, 


1  William  of  Worcester,  who  wrote  about  the  middle  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  calls  Stirling  Castle  Snowdoim.  Sir  David 
Lindsay  bestows  the  same  epithet  upon  it  in  his  complaint  of  the 
Papingo : 

"  Adieu,  fair  Snawdoun,  with  thy  towers  high, 
Thy  chapele-royal,  park,  and  table  round ; 
May,  June,  and  July,  would  I  dwell  in  thee, 
Were  I  a  man,  to  hear  the  birdis  sound 
Whilk  doth  againe  thy 'royal  rock  rebound." 

Mr.  Chalmers,  in  his  late  excellent  edition  of  Sir  David  Lindsay's 
works,  has  refuted  the  chimerical  derivation  of  Snawdoun  from 
snedding,  or  cutting.  It  was  probably  derived  from  the  romantic 
legend  whicii  connected  Stirling  with  King  Arthin-,  to  which  the 
mention  of  the  Round  Table  gives  countenance.  The  ring  within 
which  justs  were  formerly  practised,  in  the  castle  park,  is  still  called 
the  Round  Table.  Snawdoun  is  the  official  title  of  one  of  the 
Scottish  heralds,  whose  epithets  seem  in  all  countries  to  have  been 
fantastically  adopted  from  ancient  history  or  romance. 

It  appears  (see  Appendix,  Note  Q)  that  the  real  name  by  which 
James  was  actually  distinguished  in  his  private  excursions,  was  the 
Goodman  of  Ballcnouich  :  derived  from  a  steep  pass  leading  up  to 
the  Castle  of  Stirling,  so  called.  But  the  epithet  would  not  have 
suited  poetry,  and  would  besides  at  once,  and  prematurely,  have 
announced  the  plot  to  many  of  my  countrymen,  among  whom  the 
traditional  stories  above  mentioned  are  still  current. 


272 


THE   LADY  OF    7 If/-:   LAKE.         [Canto  VI. 


Join'd  to  thine  eye's  dark  witchcraft,  drew 

My  spell-bound  steps  to  Benvenue,' 

In  dangerous  hour,  and  almost  gave 

Thy  Monarch's  life  to  mountain  glaive  !"- 

Aloud  he  spoke  —  "Thou  still  dost  hold 

That  little  talisman  of  gold. 

Pledge  of  my  faith,  Fitz-James's  ring  —  * 

What  seeks  fair  r:ilen  of  the  king?" 


XXIX. 

Inill  well  the  conscious  maiden  guess'd 
lie  probed  the  weakness  of  her  breast; 
J  hit,  with  that  consciousness,  there  came 
A  licrhtening  of  her  fears  for  Grxme, 
And  3  more  she  deem'd  the  monarch's  ire 
Kindled  'gainst  him,  who,  for  her  sire 
Rebellious  broadsword  boldly  drew  ; 
And,  to  her  generous  feeling  true. 
She  craved  the  grace  of  Roderick  Dhu. - 
"  I-orbear  thy  suit :  — the  King  of  kings 
Alone  can  stay  life's  parting  wings. 


IMS.:"  Thy  sovereign  back       )  ^^  Bcnvcni.c." 

Thv  sovereign's  steps   ) 
2  MS.  :  "  Pledge  of  Fitz-Jaines's  faith,  tlie  ring." 
*  MS.  :  '■  Ami  in  her  breast  strove  inaiden  shame; 
More  deep  slie  dcein'd  the  Monarcii's  ire 
Kindled  'gainst  him.  who.  for  her  sire, 
Against  hi^  sovereign  broadsword  drew; 
And.  with  a  pleading,  warm  and  true, 
She  craved  the  grace  of  Roderick  Dhu." 


Cant.)  VI.]         THE  LADY  OF   THE  E4KE.  273 

I  know  his  heart,  I  know  his  hand, 

Have  shared  his  cheer  and  proved  his  brand  :  — 

My  fairest  earldom  would  I  give 

To  bid  Clan-Alpine's  Chieftain  live !  — 

Hast  thou  no  other  boon  to  crave  ? 

No  other  captive  friend  to  save  ?  " 

Blushing,  she  turn'd  her  from  the  King, 

And  to  the  Douglas  gave  the  ring. 

As  if  she  wish'd  her  sire  to  speak 

The  suit  that  stain'd  her  glowing  cheek.  ■ — 

"  Nay,  then,  my  pledge  has  lost  its  force, 

And  stubborn  justice  holds  her  course. — 

Malcolm,  come  forth  !  "  —  And,  at  the  word, 

Down  kneel'd  the  Graeme '  to  Scotland's  Lord. 

"For  thee,  rash  youth,  nc  suppliant  sues, 

From  thee  may  Vengeance  claim  her  dues. 

Who,  nurtured  underneath  our  smile, 

Hast  paid  our  care  by  treacherous  wile, 

And  sought,  amid  thy  faithful  clan, 

A  refuge  for  an  outlaw'd  man. 


1  -'Malcolm  Grreme  has  too  insignificant  a  part  assigned  him, 
considering  the  favor  in  which  he  is  held  both  by  Ellen  and  the 
author;  and  in  bringing  out  the  shaded  and  imperfect  character  of 
Roderick  Dhu,  as  a  contrast  to  the  pui-er  virtue  of  his  rival,  Mr. 
Scott  seems  to  have  fallen  into  the  common  error  of  making  him 
more  interesting  than  him  whose  virtues  he  was  intended  to  set  off, 
and  converted  the  villain  of  the  piece  in  some  measure  into  its  hero. 
A  modern  poet,  however,  mav  perhaps  be  pardoned  for  an  error,  of 
which  Milton  himself  is  thought  not  to  have  kept  clear,  and  for 
which  there  seems  so  natural  a  cause  in  the  difference  between 
poetical  and  amiable  characters." — Jeffrey. 


74  THE   LADY   or    Till-    I.AKR.         [Canto  VI 

Dishonoriiij^  thus  thy  loyal  iiaiiic.  — 

Fetters  and  warder  for  the  Grxmc  !  " 

His  chain  of  gold  the  King  unstrung, 
The  links  o'er  Malcolm's  neck  he  flung, 
Then  gently  drew  the  glittering  band, 
And  laid  the  clasj)  on  Ellen's  hand.' 


Harp  of  the  North,  farewell !     The  hills  grow  dark; 

On  }viuple  peaks  a  deeper  shade  descending  ; 
In  twilight  copse  the  glow-worm  lights  her  sjiark, 

The  deer,  half-seen,  are  to  the  covert  wending. 
Resume  thy  wizard  elm  !  the  fountain  lending. 

And  the  wild  breeze,  thy  wilder  minstrelsy  ; 
Thy  numbers  sweet  with  nature's  vespers  blending, 

With  distant  echo  from  the  fold  and  lea, 
And  herd-boy's  evening  pipe,  and  hum  of  hcnising  bee. 

'  .  .  .  ••  Aiul  iK)\v,  waivini;;  niyM.II",  let  nic  talk  to  yon  ot'  the 
Prince  Rcj^cnt.  I  Ic  orcierfcl  me  to  he  presented  to  him  at  a  hall; 
ifnd  after  some  sayin<(s  peculiarly  pleasiTi^f  from  royal  lips,  as  to  my 
own  attempts,  he  talked  tome  of  yon  and  \-oin-  immortalities;  he 
preferred  \nn\  to  every  hard  j^ast  and  present,  antl  asked  which  of 
your  works  pleased  me  most.  It  was  a  ditlicult  question.  I  answered, 
I  thought  the  '  L.iy.'  Ilesaitl  liis  own  opinion  was  nearly  similar. 
In  speakini^  of  the  others,  I  told  him  that  I  thoui^ht  you  more  particu- 
larly the  poet  of  Pn'iircs,  as  lln y  never  .ijipeared  more  fascinalinj^ 
tlian  in  '  Marmion,"  and  the  '  I.adv  of  the  Lake."  lie  was  pleased 
to  coincide,  and  to  ilwell  on  the  tiescription  f)f  your  James's  as  no 
less  royal  than  poetical.  He  spoke  alternately  of  Homer  and  your- 
self, and  seemed  well  acc|uainted  with  holh,"  &c.  —  F.rUrr  Jioin 
Lorti  Uvroii  to  Sir  W'al  f'  >  '<■•''  ^f^-t^' f*.  i^u.  r,\i<(>N>-  I II',  nnd 
Worki,  vol.  ii.,  p.  156. 


Canto  VI.]         THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE.  275 


Yet,  once  again,  farewell,  thou  Minstrel  llarp! 

Yet,  once  again,  forgive  my  feeble  sway, 
And  little  reck  I  of  the  censure  sharp 

May  idly  cavil  at  an  idle  lay. 
Much  have  I  owed  thy  strains  on  life's  long  way, 

Throuirh  secret  woes  the  world  has  never  known. 
When  on  the  weary  night  dawn'd  wearier  day. 

And  bitterer  wasj:he  grief  devour'd  alone. 
That  I  o'erlive  such  woes.  Enchantress  !  is  thine  own. 

Hark  !  as  my  lingering  footsteps  slow  retire, 

Some  Spirit  of  the  Air  has  waked  thy  string ! 
'Tis  now  a  seraph  bold,  with  touch  of  fire, 

'Tis  now  the  brush  of  Fairy's  frolic  wing. 
Receding  now,  the  dying  numbers  ring 

Fainter  and  fainter  down  the  rugged  dell. 
And  now  the  mountain  breezes  scarcely  bring 

A  wandering  witch-note  of  the  distant  spell  — 
And  now,  'tis  silent  all !  —  Enchantress,  fare  thee  well ! ' 


'  On  a  comparison  of  the  merits  of  this  poem  with  the  two  former 
productions  of  the  same  unque  tioned  genius,  we  are  inclined  to 
bestow  on  it  a  very  decided  preference  over  both.  It  would  perhaps 
be  difficult  to  select  any  one  passage  of  such  genuine  inspiration,  as 
one  or  two  that  might  be  pointed  out  in  the  Lay  of  the  Last 
Minstrel,  —  and,  perhaps,  in  strength  and  discrimination  of  character, 
It  mav  fall  short  ofMarmion;  although  we  are  'oath  to  resign  either 
the  rude  and  savage  generosity  of  Roderick,  the  romantic  chivalry 
of  James,  or  the  playful  simplicity,  the  affectionate  tenderness,  the 
modest  courage  of  Helen  Douglas,  to  the  claims  of  any  competitors 
in  the  last-mentioned  poem.  But,  for  interest  and  artificial  manage- 
ment in  the  story,  for  general  ease  and  grace  of  versification,  and 
correctness  of  language,  the  Lady  of  th'-  Lake  must  be  universally 


27C  TltE  LADY  OF    THE   LAKE.        (Canto  vl. 


allowed,  we  think,  to  excel,  ami  very  far  excel,  either  of  her  prede- 
cessors. —  Critical  Rc-'ic-v. 

"There  is  nothin-j  in  Mr.  Scott  of  the  severe  and  majestic  style 
of  Milton  —  or  of  the  terse  and  line  comjiosition  ot  Pope  —  or  of  the 
elahorate  elegance  and  melody  of  Campbell — or  even  of  the  llqw- 
ing  and  redundant  diction  of  SouIIkv,  —  hut  there  is  a  medley  of 
bright  images  and  glowing,  set  carelessly  and  loosely  together  —  a 
diction  tinged  successively  with  the  careless  richness  of  Shakspeare, 
the  harshness  and  antique  simplicity  of  the  old  romances,  the  home- 
liness of  vulgar  ballads  and  anecdotes,  and  the  sentimental  glitter 
of  the  most  modern  poetry — passing  from  the  borders  of  the 
ludicrous  to  those  of  the  sublime — alternately  minute  and  energetic 
—  sometimes  artificial,  aiul  frequently  negligent,  but  always  full  of 
spirit  and  vivacity — abounding  in  inrages,  that  are  striking  at  ilrst 
sight  to  minds  of  every  contexture  — ar'  never  expressing  a  senti- 
ment which  it  can  cost  the  most  ordinary  reader  any  exertion  to 
comprehend.  Upon  the  whole,  we  are  inclined  to  think  more  highly 
of  the  Lady  of  the  Lake  than  of  either  of  its  author's  former  publica- 
tions. We  are  more  sure,  however,  that  it  has  fewer  faults,  than 
that  it  has  greater  beauties;  and  as  its  beauties  bear  a  strong  resem- 
blance to  those  with  which  the  public  has  been  already  made  familiar 
in  these  celebrated  w(jrks,  we  should  not  be  sin-prised  if  its  ]iopu- 
larity  were  less  splendid  and  remarkable.  For  our  own  part,  how- 
ever, we  are  of  opinion,  that  it  will  be  oftener  read  hereafter  than 
either  of  them  ;  and  that  if  it  had  appeared  first  in  the  series,  their 
reception  would  have  been  less  favorable  than  that  which  it  has 
experienced.  It  is  more  polished  in  its  diction,  and  more  regular 
in  its  versification ;  the  story  is  constructed  with  infinitely  more 
skill  and  atliiress;  there  is  a  greater  proportion  of  pleasing  and 
tender  passages,  with  much  less  aiitii]uarian  iletail ;  and.  upon  the 
whole,  a  larger  variety  of  characters,  more  artfully  and  judiciously 
contrasted.  There  is  nothing  so  fine,  perhaps,  as  the  battle  in 
Marmion  —  or  so  picturesque  as  some  of  the  scattered  sketches  in 
the  Lay;  but  there  is  a  richness  and  a  spirit  in  the  whole  piece, 
which  does  not  pervade  either  of  these  poems  —  a  profusion  of  inci- 
dent, and  a  shifting  brilliancy  of  coloring,  that  reminds  us  of  the 
witchery  of  Ariosto  —  and  a  constant  elasticity,  ami  occasional 
energy,  which  seems  to  belong  more  peculiarly  to  the  author  now 
before  us" — JiiKKREY. 


APPENDIX 


TO 


THE    LADY   OF   THE    LAKE. 


APPENDIX. 


Note  A. 


A  gray-liair\i  sirc^  vj/iose  eye  iiitoit 
Was  on  the  vision^ d futtire  bent.  —  P.  45. 

If  force  of  evidence  could  authorize  us  to  believe  facts 
mconsistent  with  the  general  laws  of  nature,  enough  might 
be  produced  in  favor  of  the  existence  of  the  Second-sight. 
It  is  called  in  Gaelic  Taishitaraugh,  from  Taish,  an  unreal  or 
shadowy  appearance  ;  and  those  possessed  of  the  faculty  are 
called  Taiskatrm,  which  may  be  aptly  translated  visionaries, 
Martin,  a  steady  believer  in  the  second  sight,  gives  the  fol- 
lowing account  of  it :  — 

"  The  second-sight  is  a  singular  faculty,  of  seeing  an  other- 
■^ise  invisible  object,  without  any  previous  means  used  by  the 
person  that  used  it  for  that  end ;  the  vision  makes  such  a 
lively  impression  upon  the  seers,  that  they  neither  see,  nor 
think  of  anything  else,  except  the  vision,  as  long  as  it  con- 
tinues ;  and  then  they  appear  pensive  or  jovial,  according  to 
the  object  that  was  represented  to  them. 

"At  the  sight  of  a  vision,  the  eyelids  of  the  person  are 
erected,  and  the  eyes  continue  staring  until  the  object  vanish. 
This  is  obvious  to  others  who  are  by  when  the  persons  happen 
to  see  a  vision,  and  occurred  more  than  once  to  my  own 
observation,  and  to  others  that  were  with  me. 

"  There  is  one  in  Skie,  of  whom  his  acquaintance  observed, 
that  when  he  sees  a  vision,  the  inner  part  of  his  eyelids  turns 
so  far  upwards,  that,  after  the  object  disappears,  he  must 
draw    them    down  with   his   fingers,   and  sometimes  employ 

279 


28o  THE  L.iP)-  or  Till-:  l..\KI-:. 

others  to  draw  them  down,  which  he  finds  to  be  the  much 
easier  way. 

"This  faculty  of  the  second-sight  does  not  Hneally  descend 
in  a  family,  as  some  imagine,  for  I  know  several  parents  who 
are  endowed  with  it,  but  their  children  not,  and  vice  versa; 
neither  is  it  acquired  by  any  previous  compact.  And,  after  a 
strict  inquiry,  I  could  never  learn  that  this  faculty  was  com- 
municable any  way  whatsoever. 

"  The  seer  knows  neither  the  object,  lime,  nor  place  of  a 
vision  before  it  appears ;  and  the  same  object  is  often  seen 
by  different  persons  living  at  a  considerable  distance  from 
one  another.  The  true  way  of  judging  as  to  the  time  and 
circumstance  of  an  object,  is  by  observation  ;  for  several  j^er- 
sons  of  judgment,  without  this  faculty,  are  more  capable  to 
judge  of  the  design  of  a  vision,  than  a  novice  that  is  a  seer. 
If  an  object  appear  in  the  dav  or  night,  it  will  come  to  pass 
sooner  or  later  accordingly. 

"If  an  object  is  .seen  early  in  tlie  morning  (which  is  not 
frequent),  it  will  be  accomplished  in  a  few  hours  afterwards. 
If  at  noon,  it  will  commonly  be  accom])lished  that  very  day. 
If  in  the  evening,  perhaps  that  night ;  if  after  candles  be 
lighted,  it  will  be  accomplished  that  night;  the  latter  always 
in  accomplishment,  by  weeks,  months,  and  sometimes  years, 
according  to  the  time  of  night  the  vision  is  seen. 

"  When  a  shroud  is  jjerceived  about  one,  it  is  a  sure  prog- 
nostic of  death  :  the  time  is  judged  according  to  the  height  of 
it  about  the  person  :  for  if  it  is  seen  above  the  middle,  death 
is  not  to  be  expected  for  the  space  of  a  year,  and  perhaps 
some  months  longer;  and  as  it  is  frequently  seen  to  ascend 
higher  towards  the  head,  death  is  concluded  to  be  at  hand 
within  a  few  days,  if  not  hours,  as  daily  experience  confirms. 
Examples  of  this  kind  were  shown  me,  when  the  persons  of 
whom  the  observations  were  then  made  enjoyed  perfect 
health. 


APPENDIX.  281 

"  One  instance  was  lately  foretold  by  a  seer,  that  was  a 
novice,  concerning  the  death  of  one  of  my  acquaintance  ;  this 
was  communicated  to  a  few  only,  and  with  great  confidence  : 
T  being  one  of  the  number,  did  not  in  the  least  regard  it, 
until  the  death  of  the  person,  about  the  time  foretold,  did 
confirm  me  of  the  certainty  of  the  prediction.  The  novice 
mentioned  abovc,  is  now  a  skilful  seer,  as  appears  from  many 
late  instances ;  he  lives  in  the  parish  of  St.  Mary's,  the  most 
northern  in  Skie. 

"  If  a  woman  is  seen  standing  at  a  man's  left  hand,  it  is  a 
presage  that  she  will  be  his  wife,  whether  they  be  married  to 
others,  or  unmarried  at  the  time  of  the  apparition. 

"  If  two  or  three  women  are  seen  at  once  near  a  man's  left 
hand,  she  that  is  next  him  will  undoubtedly  be  his  wife  first, 
and  so  on,  whether  all  three,  or  the  man,  be  single  or  married 
at  the  time  of  the  vision  or  not ;  of  which  there  are  several 
late  instances  among  those  of  my  acquaintance.  It  is  an 
ordinary  thing  for  them  to  see  a  man  that  is  to  come  to  the 
house  shortly  after  ;  and  if  he  is  not  of  the  seer's  acquaint- 
ance, yet  he  gives  such  a  lively  description  of  his  stature, 
complexion,  habit,  etc.,  that  upon  his  arrival  he  answers  the 
character  given  him  in  all  respects. 

"  If  the  person  so  appearing  be  one  of  the  seer's  acquaint- 
ance, he  will  tell  his  name,  as  well  as  other  particulars ;  and 
he  can  tell  by  his  countenance  whether  he  comes  in  a  good  or 
bad  humor. 

"  I  have  been  seen  thus  myself  by  seers  of  both  sexes,  at 
some  hundred  miles'  distance  ;  some  that  saw  me  in  this  man 
ner  had  never  seen  me  personally,  and  it  happened  according 
to  their  vision,  without  any  previous  design  of  mine  to  go  to 
these  places,  my  coming  there  being  purely  accidental. 

"  It  is  ordinary  with  them  to  see  houses,  gardens,  and  trees 
in  places  void  of  all  three  ;  and  this  in  progress  of  time  uses 
to  be  accomplished  :  as  at  Magshot,  in  the  Isle  of  Skie,  where 


2S2  77/ A"  /..//;]■  O/-'  llli:  /..IK/-:. 

there  were  bill  a  few  sorry  cowhouses,  thatched  with  straw, 
yet  in  a  very  few  years  after,  the  vision,  which  appeared  often, 
was  accomplished,  by  the  buikhng  of  several  good  houses  on 
the  very  spot  represented  by  the  seers,  and  by  the  planting  of 
orchards  there. 

"  To  see  a  spark  of  fire  fall  upon  one's  arm  or  breast,  is  a 
forerunner  of  a  dead  child  to  be  seen  in  the  arms  of  those 
persons,  of  which  there  are  several  fresh  instances. 

"To  see  a  seat  empty  at  the  time  of  one's  sitting  in  it,  is  a 
presage  of  that  person's  death  soon  after, 

"  When  a  novice,  or  one  that  has  lately  obtained  the  second- 
sight,  sees  a  vision  in  the  night-time  without  doors,  and  he  be 
near  a  fire,  he  presently  falls  into  a  swoon, 

'•Some  find  themselves  as  it  were  in  a  crowd  of  people^ 
having  a  corpse  which  they  carry  along  with  them  ;  and  after 
such  visions  the  seers  come  in  sweating,  and  describe  the  peo- 
ple that  appeared  ;  if  there  be  any  of  their  acquaintance 
among  'em,  they  give  an  account  of  their  names,  as  also  of 
the  bearers,  but  they  know  nothing  concerning  the  corpse, 

"All  those  who  have  the  second-sight  do  not  alwavs  see 
these  visions  at  once,  though  they  be  together  at  the  time, 
liut  if  one  who  has  this  faculty,  designedly  touch  his  fellow- 
seer  at  the  instant  of  a  vision's  appearing,  then  the  second 
sees  it  as  well  as  the  first  ;  and  this  is  sometmies  discerned  by 
those  that  are  near  them  on  such  occasions."  —  Martin's 
Dcscrtption  of  t/ic  Western  /s/<vi(/s,  17  i6,  8vo,,  p.  300,  ef  sn/. 

To  these  particulars  innumerable  e,xam])les  might  he  added, 
all  attested  I)y  grave  and  credible  authors.  15ut,  in  despite  f)f 
evidence  which  neither  Jiacon,  Hoyle,  nor  Johnson  were  able 
to  resist,  the  Tai.u'/i,  with  all  its  visionary  properties,  seems  to 
be  now  universally  abandoned  to  the  use  of  poetry.  The 
exquisitely  beautiful  poem  of  T,orhi(  1  will  M  nnrn  rcrur  to  the 
recollection  of  every  reader. 


APPENDIX.  283 


Note  B. 

'  My  sire's  tall  form  might  grace  the  pari 
Of  Fcrragiis  or  Ascabart.  —  P.  50. 

These  two  sons  of  Anak  flourished  in  romantic  fable.  The 
first  is  well  known  to  the  admirers  of  Ariosto,  by  the  name  of 
Ferrau.  He  was  an  antagonist  of  Orlando,  and  was  at  length 
slain  by  him  in  single  combat.  There  is  a  romance  in  the 
Auchinleck  MS.,  in  which  Ferragus  is  thus  described  :  — 

"  On  a  day  come  tiding 
Unto  Charls  the  King, 

Al  of  a  doughti  knight 
Was  comen  to  Navers. 
Stout  he  was  and  fers, 

Vernagu  he  hight 
Of  babiloun  the  soudan 
Thider  him  sende  gan, 

With  King  Charls  to  fight. 
So  hard  he  was  to-fond ' 
That  no  dint  of  brond 

No  greud  him.  apHght. 
He  hadde  twenti  men  strengthe 
And  forti  fet  of  lengthe, 
Thilke  painim  hede,^ 
And  four  feet  in  the  face, 
Y-meten  ^  in  the  place, 

And  fifteen  in  brede.* 
His  nose  was  a  fot  and  more ; 
His  brow,  as  bristles  wore;* 

He  that  it  seighe  it  sede. 
He  looked  lotheliche, 
And  was  swart  ^  as  an)'  piche,  ^ 

Of  him  men  might  adrede." 

Romance  of  Charlemagne^  I.  461-484. 
Atechinleck  MS.,  fol.  265. 

Ascapart  or  Ascabart  makes  a  very  material  figure  in  the 
History  of  Bevis  of  Hampton,  by  whom  he  was  conquered. 

1  Found,  proved.     2  Had.     =  Measured.     •»  Breadth.     *  Were.     «  Black. 


284  THE   LAPY  OF    1 1  IE   LAKE. 

His  effigies  may  be  seen  guarding  one  side  of  a  gate  at  Soiitii- 
anipion,  while  the  other  is  occupied  by  Sir  Bevis  himself. 
The  dimensions  of  Ascabart  were  little  inferior  tt)  those  of 
Ferragus,  if  the  following  description  be  correct :  — 

'■  'I'licy  nictten  witli  a  gcaunt, 
With  \  lotliclitlic  scmblaunt. 
He  was  wondcrliche  strong, 
Kome  '  thrctti  fote  long 
His  herd  was  liot  gret  and  rowc ;  ^ 
A  space  of  a  fot  ijetwecne  is  ^  browe  ; 
His  clob  was,  to  yeiic^  a  strok, 
A  lite  bodi  of  an  oak.* 

"  Bcucs  hadde  of  him  wonder  gret. 
And  askedehini  what  a  het,* 
,'\nd  yaf  '  men  of  his  contrd 
Were  asc  nieche  ase  •»  was  he 
'  Me  name,'  a  scde,"  '  is  Ascopard, 
Graci  me  sent  hidcrward. 
For  to  bring  this  (jucne  ayen 
And  the  Beucs  her  of-slen.'" 
Icham  Graci  is"  champioun. 
And  was  i-<.lriiie  out  of  me'*  toim 
Al  for  that  ich  was  so  lite.'^ 
Eueri  man  me  wolde  smite, 
Ich  \v.is  so  lite  and  so  rnerugh,  '* 
Eucri  man  m;  clcpetlc  dweriigli,'* 
And  now  icham  in  this  londe, 
I  wax  mor  "  ich  undcrstonde, 
And  stranger  than  other  tcnr;  '^ 
And  th.it  schcl  on  us  be  so nc.' " 

Sir  linis  of  limit }■' on,  1.  2512. 
Aiicfiitilcck  MS.,  fol.  189. 

•  Fully.  *  Kougli.  •'  His.  *  Give.  *  The  stem  of  a  little  o.ik-lrec.  '  lir 
hight.  w.-is  callwi.  'If.  »  Gre.it.  »  He  said,  'o  Shy.  "His.  "My.  "Lit 
lie.     '«  Lean.     '*  Dwarf.     '^  (ircatcr,  taller.     "  Ten. 


APPENDIX.  2^5 


Note  C. 

In  Holy- Rood  a  KnigJit  he  slc-v.  —  P.  72. 

This  was  by  no  means  an  uncommon  occurrence  in  the 
court  of  Scotland ;  nay,  the  presence  of  the  sovereign  himself 
scarcely  restrained  the  ferocious  and  inveterate  feuds  which 
were  the  perpetual  source  of  bloodshed  among  the  Scottish 
nobility.  The  following  instance  of  the  murder  of  Sir  Wil- 
liam Stuart  of  Ochiltree,  called  The  Bloody,  by  the  celebrated 
Francis,  Earl  of  Bothwell,  may  be  produced  among  many; 
but,  as  the  offence  given  in  the  royal  court  will  hardly  bear  a 
vernacular  translation,  I  shall  leave  the  story  in  Johnstone's 
Latin,  referring  for  farther  particulars  to  the  naked  simplicity 
of  Birrell's  Diary,  30th  July,  1588. 

"  JSIors  improbi  hominis  non  tarn  ipsa  immerita,  qiiain  pes- 
simo  exemplo  in  publicuni,  /cede  perpetrata.  Guliebnus  Stu- 
ar/iis  Alkilfrius,  Arani  f rater,  naturd,  ac  moribus,  ciijus  sxpiiis 
mc»tiiu\  vulgo  propter  sitem  sanguinis  sanguinarius  dictus,  a 
Bothvelio,  in  Sanctis  Criicis  Regia  exardescente  ira,  inendacii 
probro  laces  situs,  obscoenum  osculum  liberius  j-etorqiiebat ;  Both- 
velius  hanc  contui7ieUavi  tacitus  tulit,  sed  ingentum  irarum 
moleni  animo  concepit.  Utrinquc  postridie  EdiJiburgi  conven- 
tufn,  totidcju  Jitcmero  comitibus  armatis  pr(zsidii  causa,  et  acriter 
pugnatum  est ;  coeteris  amicis  et  clientibus  metu  torpentibus,  ant 
vi  absterritis,  ipse  Stuartus  fortissime  di7nicat ;  tandem  excusso 
gladio  a  Bothvelio,  Scythica  feritate  transfoditur,  sine  cujiis- 
qua^n  misericordia  ;  habuit  itaque  quern  debuit  exitum.  Dignus 
erat  Stuartus  qui  pateretur ;  Bothvelius  qui  faceret.  Vulgus 
sanguinem  sanguine  prcedicabit,  et  horuni  cruore  innocuorum 
fnanibus  egregie  parentatum^ — ■Johnstoni  Historia  Rerutit 
Britannicarum,  ab  anno  1572  ad  annum  1628.  Amstelodami, 
1655,  fob  p.  135. 


J 86  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE. 


Note  I). 

Did.,  iclf-un$cabbar(lc(i,  forcslioxv 
The  footstep  of  a  secret  foe.  —  P.  76. 

The  ancient  warriors,  whose  hope  and  confidence  rested 
chicHy  in  tlieir  blades,  were  accustomed  to  deduce  omens 
from  them,  especially  from  such  as  were  supposed  to  have 
been  fabricated  by  enchanted  skill,  of  which  we  have  various 
instances  in  the  romances  and  legends  of  the  time.  Tiie 
wonderful  sword  Skoknung,  wielded  by  the  celebrated  firolf 
Kraka,  was  of  this  description.  It  was  deposited  in  tlic  tomb 
of  the  monarch  at  his  death,  and  taken  from  thence  by 
ijkeggo,  a  celebrated  pirate,  who  bestowed  it  upon  his  son-in- 
law,  Kormak,  with  the  following  curious  directions:  —  "'The 
manner  of  using  it  will  appear  strange  to  you.  A  small  jjag 
is  attached  to  it,  which  take  heed  not  to  violate.  Let  not  the 
rays  of  the  sun  touch  the  ujiper  part  of  th.e  handle,  nor 
unsheathe  it,  unless  thou  art  ready  for  battle.  But  when  thou 
comest  to  the  place  of  fight,  go  aside  from  the  rest,  grasp  and 
extend  the  sword,  and  breathe  upon  it.  Tlien  a  small  worm 
will  creep  out  of  the  handle ;  lower  the  handle,  that  he  may 
more  casilv  return  into  it.'  Kormak,  after  liaving  received 
the  sword,  returned  home  to  his  mother.  He  showed  the 
sword,  and  attempted  to  draw  it,  as  unnecessarily  as  inelTcc- 
tually,  for  he  could  not  pluck  it  out  of  the  sheath.  His 
mother,  Dalla,  exclaimed,  '  Do  not  despise  the  counsel  given 
to  thee,  my  son.'  Kormak,  however,  repeating  his  efforts, 
pressed  down  the  handle  with  his  feet,  and  tore  off  the  bag, 
when  Skofnung  emitted  a  Jiollow  groan  ;  i.ut  still  ItV'  could  not 
unsheathe  the  sword.  Kormak  then  went  out  with  IJessus, 
whfitn  he  had  challenged  to  fight  with  him,  and  drew  apart  at 
the  place  of  coniljat.  He  sat  down  upon  the  ground,  and 
ungirding  the  sword,  which  he  boru  above  his  vestments,  did 


APPENDIX.  287 


not  renicniber  to  shield  the  liilt  1 10111  the  rays  af  the  sun.     In 
vain  he  endeavored  to  draw  it,  till  he  placed  his  foot  against 
the  hilt ;  then  the  worm  issued  from  it.    But  Kormak  did  not 
rightly  handle  the  weapon,  in  consequence  whereof  good  for- 
tune deserted  it.     As  he  unsheathed   Skofnung,  it  emitted  a 
hollow  murmur." —  Ba?-tholini.   de  Cans  is   Contcmpt<z  a  Danis 
ad/iuc  GcntUibus  Mortis^  Libri  Ires.    Ho/nice,  1689,  4to.,  p.  574. 
To  the  history  of  this  sentient  and  prescient  weapon,  I  beg 
leave  to  add,  from  memory,  the  following  legend,  for  which  I 
cannot  produce  any  better  authority.     A  young  nobleman,  of 
high  hopes  and  fortune,  chanced  to  lose  his  way  in  the  town 
which  he  inhabited,  the  capital,  if  I  mistake  not,  of  a  German 
province.     He  had  accidentally  involved  himself  among  the 
narrow  and  winding  streets   of  a  suburb,  inhabited  by  the 
lowest  order  of   the    people,   and    an    approaching  thunder- 
shower  determined  him   to   ask  a  short  refuge  in  the  most 
decent  habitation    that  was  near  him.     He  knocked  at  the 
door,  which  was  opened  by  a  tall  man,  of  a  grisly  and  fero- 
cious aspect,  and    sordid   dress.     The   stranger  was  readily 
ushered  to  a  chamber,  where  swords,  scourges,  and  machines, 
which  seemed  to  be  implements  of  .torture,  were  suspended 
on  the  wall.     One  of  these  swords  dropped  from  its  scabbard 
as  the  nobleman,   after  a  moment's  hesitation,  crossed  the 
threshold.     His  host  immediately  stared  at  him  with  such  a 
marked   expression,    that    the   young   man    could    not   help 
demanding  his  name  and  business,  and  the  meaning  of  his 
looking  at  him  so  fixedly.     "  I  am,"  answered  the  man,  "the 
public  executioner  of  this  city;  and  the  incident  you  have, 
observed  is  a  sure  augury  that  I  shall,  in  discharge  of  my 
duty,  one  day  cut  off  your  head  wiih  the  weapon  which  has 
just  now  spontaneously  unsheathed   itself."     The  nobleman 
lost  no  time  in  leaving  his  place  of  refuge  ;  but,  engaging  in 
some  of  the  plots  of  the  period,  was  shortly  after  decapitated 
by  that  very  man  and  instrument. 


2^^,  I  HE  LADY  UF   THE  LAKE. 


Lord  J.uvat  is  said,  by  llic  author  of  liic  "  Letters  from  Scot- 
land,'' to  have  aftirined,  that  a  number  of  swords  that  lumg  up 
in  the  hall  of  t!ic  mansion-house,  leaped  of  themselves  out  of 
the  scabbard  at  the  instant  he  was  born.  The  story  passed 
current  amonij  his  clan,  but,  like  that  of  the  story  I  have  just 
quoted,  proved  an  unfortunate  omen. — Litters  from  Scotland, 
vol.  ii.,  p.  214. 

Note  E. 

The  best  of  Loch  Lomond  lie  dead  on  her  side.  — P.  S2. 

Tin:  Lenno.x,  as  the  district  is  called,  which  encircles  the 
lower  extremity  of  Loch  Lomond,  was  peculiarly  exposed  to 
the  incursions  of  the  mountaineers,  who  inhabited  the  inac- 
cessible fastnesses  at  the  upper  end  of  the  lake,  and  the 
neighboring  district  of  Loch  Katrine.  These  were  often 
marked  by  circumstances  of  great  ferocity,  of  which  the 
noted  conflict  of  (Men-fruin  is  a  celebrated  insi.:ince.  This 
was  a  clan-battle,  in  which  the  Macgregors,  headed  b\-  Allas- 
ter  Macgregor,  chief  of  tiie  clan,  encountered  the  sept  of  C'ol- 
cjuhouns,  commanded  by  Sir  Humphrey  Colquhoun  of  Luss. 
It  is  on  all  hands  allowed  tiiat  the  action  was  desperately 
fought,  and  that  the  Colquhouns  were  defeated  with  great 
slaughter,  leaving  two  hundred  of  their  name  dead  upon  the 
field.  But  popular  tradition  has  added  other  horrors  to  the 
tale.  It  is  said,  that  Sir  IIum|)hrey  Colquhoun,  who  was  on 
horseback,  escaped  to  the  castle  of  IJencchra,  or  lianochai, 
and  was  next  day  drugged  out  and  murdered  by  the  vic- 
torious Macgregors  in  Cf)ld  blood.  Buchanan  of  Auchmar, 
however,  speaks  of  his  slaughter  as  a  subsequent  event,  and 
as  perpetrated  by  the  Macfarlanes.  Again,  it  is  reported  that 
the  Macgregors  murdereil  a  number  of  youths,  whom  report 
of  the  intended  battle  had  brought  to  be  spectators,  and 
whom  the  Colquhouns,  anxious  for  their  safety,  had  shut  up 


APPENDIX.  289 


111  a  bai'u  to  be  out  of  danger.  One  account  of  the  Mac- 
gregors  denies  this  circumstance  entirely  :  another  ascribes  it 
to  the  savage  and  bloodthirsty  disposition  of  a  single  individ- 
ual, the  bastard  brother  of  the  Laird  of  Macgregor,  who 
amused  himself  with  this  second  massacre  of  the  innocents, 
in  express  disobedience  to  the  chief,  by  whom  he  was  left 
their  guardian  during  the  pursuit  of  the  Colquhouns.  It  is 
added,  that  Macgregor  bitterly  lamented  this  atrocious  action, 
and  prophesied  the  ruin  which  it  must  bring  upon  their 
ancient  clan.  The  following  account  of  the  conflict,  which 
is  indeed  drawn  up'  by  a  friend  of  the  Clan-Gregor,  is  alto- 
gether silent  on  the  murder  of  the  youths.  "  In  the  spring  of 
the  year  1602,  there  happened  great  dissensions  and  troubles 
between  the  laird  of  Luss,  chief  of  the  Colquhouns,  and  Alex- 
ander, laird  of  Macgregor.  The  original  of  these  quarrels 
proceeded  from  injuries  and  provocations  mutually  given  and 
rece'v'ed  not  long  before.  Macgregor,  however,  wanting  to 
have  them  ended  in  friendly  conferences,  marched  at  the 
head  of  two  hundred  of  his  clan  to  Leven,  which  borders  on 
Luss,  his  country,  with  a  view  of  settling  matters  by  the 
mediation  of  friends :  but  Luss  had  no  such  intentions,  and 
projected  his  measures  with  a  different  view ;  for  he  privately 
drew  together  a  body  of  three  hundred  horse  and  five  hun- 
dred foot,  composed  partly  of  his  own  clan  and  their  follow- 
ers, and  partly  of  the  Buchanans,  his  neighbors,  and  resolved 
to  cut  off  Macgregor  and  his  party  to  a  man,  in  case  the  issue 
of  the  conference  did  not  answer  his  inclination.  But  mat- 
ters fell  otherwise  than  he  expected ;  and  though  Macgregor 
had  previous  information  of  his  insidious  design,  yet  dissem- 
bling his  resentment,  he  kept  the  appointment,  and  parted 
good  friends  in  appearance, 

"No  sooner  was  he  gone,  than  Luss,  thinking  to  surprise 
him  and  his  party  in  full  security,  and  without  any  dread  or 
apprehension  of  his  treachery,  followed  with  all  speed,  and 


290  TIIK  L.UW  OF   Tin:  LAKE. 


came  iij)  willi  liini  at  a  place  called  ("iknfroon.  Macgregor, 
upon  the  alarm,  divided  his  men  into  two  parties,  the  greatest 
part  wherecjf  he  commanded  himself,  and  the  other  he  com- 
mitted to  the  care  of  his  brother  John,  who,  by  his  orders,  led 
them  about  another  way,  and  attacked  the  Colquhouns  in 
ilank.  Here  it  was  fought  with  great  bravery  on  both  sides 
'or  a  considerable  time;  and,  notwilJistantling  the  vast  dis- 
proportion of  numbers,  Macgregor,  in  the  end,  obtained  an 
absolute  victory.  So  great  was  the  rout,  that  two  hundred 
of  the  Colquhouns  were  left  dead  upon  the  spot,  most  of  the 
leading  men  were  killed,  and  a  multitude  of  prisoners  taken. 
IJut  what  seemed  most  surprising  and  incredible  in  this 
defeat,  was,  that  none  of  the  Macgregors  were  missing,  ex- 
cept John,  the  laird's  brother,  and  one  common  fellow,  though 
inileed  many  of  them  were  wounded.''  —  ruoFiissoR  Ross's 
History  of  the  Family  of  Suthcrlaiul,  1631. 

The  consequences  of  the  battle  of  Cllen-fruin  was  ver}'  cala- 
mitous to  the  family  of  Macgregor,  who  had  already  been 
considered  as  an  unruly  clan.  The  widows  of  the  slain  Col- 
(juhouns,  sixty,  it  is  said,  in  number,  appeared  in  doleful  pio- 
cession  before  the  king  at  Stirling,  each  riding  upon  a  white 
palfrey,  and  bearing  in  her  hand  the  bloody  shirt  of  her  hus- 
band displayed  upon  a  pike.  James  VI.  was  so  much  moved 
by  the  complaints  of  this  "choir  of  mourning  dames,"  that  he 
let  loose  his  vengeance  against  the  Macgregors,  without 
either  bounds  or  moderation.  The  very  name  of  the  clan 
was  proscribed,  and  those  by  whom  it  had  been  borne  were 
given  up  to  sword  and  fire,  and  absolutely  hunted  down  by 
bloodhounds  like  wild  beasts.  Arg>-le  and  the  Campbells  on 
the  one  hand,  Montrose  with  the  Grahamcs  and  l?uchanans, 
on  the  ocher,  are  said  to  have  be>^n  the  chief  instruments  in 
suppressing  this  devoted  clan.  The  T.aird  of  Macgregor  sur- 
rendered to  the  former,  on  condition  that  he  would  take  him 
cut  of  Scottish  ground.     But.  to  use  Birrell's  expression,  he 


APPENDIX.  291 


kept  "a  HiL^lilaiuiiuan's  promise;"  and,  although  lie  fulfilled 
his  word  to  the  lctt(,'r,  by  carrying  him  as  far  as  Berwick,  he 
afterwards  brought  him  back '  to  Edinburgh,  where  he  was 
executed  with  eighteen  of  his  clan  (Birrel's  Diary,  2d  Octo- 
ber, 1603.)  The  clan  Gregor  being  thus  driven  to  utter 
despair,  seemed  to  have  renounced  the  laws  from  the  benefit 
of  which  they  were  excluded,  and  their  depredations  pro- 
duced new  acts  of  council,  confirming  the  severity  of  their 
proscription,  which  had  only  the  effect  of  rendering  them 
still  more  united  and  desperate.  It  is  a  most  extraordinary 
proof  of  the  ardent  and  invincible  spirit  of  clanship,  that, 
notwithstanding  the  repeated  proscriptions  providently  or- 
dained by  the  legislature,  "for  the  timcons  preventing  the 
disorders  and  oppression  that  may  fall  out  by  the  said  name 
and  clan  of  Macgregors  and  their  followers,"  they  were  in 
17 1 5  and  1745,  a  potent  clan,  and  contmue  to  subsist  as  a 
distinct  and  numerous  race. 

Note  F. 

Atid  -a>hilc  ihc  Fiery  Cross  glaticed,  like  a  meteor,  round.  — P.  105. 

When  a  chieftain  designed  to  summon  his  clan,  upon  any 
sudden  or  important  emergency,  he  slew  a  goat,  and  making 
a  cross  of  any  light  wood,  seared  its  extremities  in  the  fire, 
and  extinguished  them  in  the  blood  of  the  animal.  This  was 
called  the  Fiery  Cross,  also  Crean  Tarigh,  or  the  Cross  of 
Skame,  because  disobedience  to  what  the  symbol  impUed 
inferred  infamy.  It  was  delivered  to  a  swift  and  trusty  mes 
senger,  who  ran  full  speed  with  it  to  the  next  hamlet,  where 
he  presented  it  to  the  principal  person,  with  a  single  word, 
implying  the  place  of  rendezvous.  He  who  received  the 
symbol  was  bound  to  send  it  forward  with  equal  dispatch  to 
the  next  village;  and  thus  it  passed  with  incredible  celerity 
.  through  all  the  district  which  owed  allegiance  to  the  chief^ 


'92  THE   LAD)-   OF    1111     LAKE. 


and  also  .iiim-iil;'  his  allies  .imi  iioiLjhIvJis,  ii  iIk-  il.iii;;;cr  was 
coinnion  lo  llieni.  At  sight  of  the  J-icry  Cross',  every  man, 
from  sixteen  years  old  to  sixty,  capal)le  of  bearinj^  arms,  was 
obliged  instantly  to  repair,  in  his  best  arms  and  accoutre- 
ments, to  the  place  of  rendezvous,  lie  who  failed  to  appear 
suffered  tlie  extremities  of  fire  and  sword,  which  were  em- 
blematically denounced  to  the  disobedient  by  the  bloody  and 
burnt  marks  upoi;  tliis  warlike  signal.  During  the  civil  war 
of  1745-C,  the  Fiery  Cross  often  made  its  circuit;  and  ujion 
one  occasion  it  passed  through  the  whole  district  of  llreadal- 
bane,  a  tract  of  thirty-two  n\iles.  in  three  hours.  The  late 
Alexander  .Stewart,  Esq..  of  Invcrnahyle,  described  to  me  his 
having  sent  round  the  Fiery  C'ross  through  the  district  of 
.Appine,  during  the  same  commotion.  The  coast  was  tiireal- 
ened  by  a  descent  from  two  English  frigates,  and  the  flower 
of  the  young  men  were  with  the  army  of  I'ritice  CMiarles 
Edward,  then  in  I'jigland,  yet  the  summons  was  so  effectual, 
that  even  old  age  and  childhood  obeyed  it,  and  a  force  was 
collected  in  a  few  hours,  so  numerous  and  so  enthusiastic, 
that  all  attempt  at  the  intended  diversion  upon  the  country  of 
the  absent  warriors  was  in  prudence  abandoned,  as  desperate. 

This  practice,  like  some  others,  is  common  to  the  High- 
landers with  the  ancient  Scandinavians,  as  will  appear  by  the 
following  extract  from  Olaus  Magnus  :  — 

"When  the  enemy  is  upon  the  sea-const,  or  within  the  lim- 
its of  northern  kingdomes,  then  presently,  by  the  command  of 
the  principal  governours,  with  the  counsel  and  consent  of  the 
old  soldiers,  who  are  notably  skilled  in  such  like  business,  a 
staff  of  three  hands  length,  in  the  common  sight  of  them  all, 
is  carried,  by  the  speedy  running  of  some  active  young  man, 
unto  that  village  or  city,  with  this  command,  —  that  on  the  3. 
4.  or  8.  Hay,  one,  two,  or  three,  or  else  every  man  in  par- 
ticidar,  frf>m  15  vears  old,  shall  come  with  his  arms,  and 
expenses  for  ten  or  twenty  days,  u|)on  pain  that  his  or  their 


APPENDIX.  293 


houses  shall  be  burnt  (which  is  intimated  by  the  burning  of 
the  staff),  or  else  the  master  to  be  hanged  (which  is  signilicd 
by  the  cord  tied  to  it),  to  appear  speedily  on  such  a  Ijank,  or 
held,  or  valley,  to  hear  the  cause  he  is  called,  and  to  hear 
orders  from  tlie  said  provincial  governours  what  he  shall  do. 
Wherefore  that  messenger,  swifter  than  any  post  or  waggon, 
having  done  his  commission,  comes  slowly  back  again,  bring- 
ing a  token  with  him  that  he  hath  done  all  legally,  and  every 
moment  one  or  another  runs  to  every  village,  and  tells  those 
places  what  they  must  do."  .  ,  .  "The  messengers,  there- 
fore, of  the  footmen,  that  are  to  give  warning  to  the  people  to 
meet  for  the  battail,  run  fiercely  and  swiftly,  for  no  snow,  no 
rain,  nor  heat  can  stop  them,  nor  night  hold  them  ;  but  they 
will  soon  run  the  race  they  undertake.  The  first  messenger 
tells  it  to  the  next  village,  and  that  to  the  next,  and  so  the 
hubbub  runs  all  over  till  they  all  know  it  in  that  stift  or  ter- 
ritory, where,  when  and  wherefore  they  must  meet."  — Olaus 
Magnus"  History  of  the  Goths,  englished  by  J.  S.  Lond.  1658. 
book  iv.  chap.  3,  4. 

Note  G. 

That  monk,  of  savage  form  and  face.  —  P   107. 

The  state  of  religion  in  the  middle  ages  afforded  consider- 
able facilities  for  those  whose  mode  of  life  excluded  them 
from  regular  worship,  to  secure,  nevertheless,  the  ghostly 
assistance  of  confessors,  perfectly  willing  to  adapt  the  nature 
of  their  doctrine  to  the  necessities  and  peculiar  circumstances 
of  their  flock.  Robin  Hood,  it  is  well  known,  had  his  cele- 
brated domestic  chaplain,  Friar  Tuck.  And  that  same  curtal 
friar  was  probably  matched  in  manners  and  appearance  by 
the  ghostly  fathers  of  the  Tynedale  robbers,  who  are  thus 
described  in  an  excommunication  fulnfinated  against  their 
patrons  by  Richard  Fox,  Bishop  of  Durham,  tempore  Henrici 
VII.     "We   have  further   uiiderstood,   that  there   are  manv 


294  THI-:  i..\nv  or  /y//-;  i..iki-: 


cliaiilains  in  the  said  territories  of  Tynedalc  and  Rcdesdale, 
who  are  pubhc  and  open  maintainers  of  concubinage,  irre- 
gidar,  suspended,  excommunicated,  and  interdicted  persons, 
and  withal  so  utterly  ignorant  of  letters,  that  it  has  been 
found  by  those  who  objected  this  to  them,  that  there  were 
some  who,  having  celebrated  mass  for  ten  years,  were  still 
unable  to  read  the  sacramental  service.  ^.Ve  have  also  under- 
stood there  are  persons  among  them  who,  although  not 
ordained,  do  take  upon  them  the  offices  of  priesthood  ;  and, 
in  contempt  of  (Jod,  celebrate  the  divine  and  sacred  rites, 
and  administer  tl\e  sacraments,  not  only  in  sacred  and  detli- 
cated  places,  but  in  those  which  are  prophane  and  interdicted, 
and  most  wretchedly  ruinous ;  they  themselves  being  attired 
in  ragged,  torn,  and  most  filthy  vestments,  altogether  unfit  to 
be  used  in  divine,  or  even  in  temporal  offices.  The  which 
said  chaplains  do  administer  sacraments  and  sacramental 
rites  to  the  aforesaid  manifest  and  infamous  thieves,  robbers, 
depredators,  receivers  of  stolen  goods,  and  plunderers,  and 
that  without  restitution,  or  intention  to  restore,  as  evinced  by 
the  act;  and  do  also  openly  admit  them  to  the  riles  of  eccle- 
siastical sepulchre,  without  exacting  security  for  restitution, 
although  they  are  prohibited  from  doing  so  by  the  sacred 
canons,  as  well  as  by  the  institutes  of  the  saints  and  fathers. 
All  which  infers  the  heavy  peril  of  their  own  souls,  and  is  a 
pernicious  example  to  the  other  believers  in  Christ,  as  well  as 
no  slight,  but  an  aggravated  injury,  to  tlic  numbers  despoiled 
and  phnidered  of  their  goods,  gear,  herds,  and  chattels."' 

To  this  lively  and  picturesque  description  of  the  confessors 

and  churchmen  of  predatory  tribes,  there  may  be  added  some 

urious    particulars  respecting   the    priests    attached    to    the 

'  The  Monition  ajj.iinst  the  Rohlxrs  of  Tyncd.ilc  .inel  Kcflcsdnlr.  with  winch  I 
was  favored  by  my  friend,  Mr.  .Surlces  of  Mainsforth,  may  be  found  in  llie  original 
Latin,  in  the  Appendix  to  tlic  Introduction  to  the  "  Ilordir  Minstrelsy,"  Ncj.  VII. 
vol.  i.,  p.  27^  of  the  Iuliriburj;li  edition,      iz  vols. 


APPENDIX.  205 


several  septs  of  native  Irish,  during  the  reign  of  Queen  Eliza- 
beth. These  friars  had  indeed  to  plead,  that  the  incursions, 
which  they  not  only  pardoned,  but  even  encouraged,  were 
made  upon  those  hostile  to  them,  as  well  in  religion  as  from 
national  antipathy ;  but  by  Protestant  writers  they  are  uni- 
formly alleged  to  be  the  chief  instruments  of  Irish  insurrec- 
tion, the  very  well-spring  of  all  rebellion  towards  the  English 
government.  Lithgow,  the  Scottish  traveller,  declares  the 
Irish  wood-kerne,  or  predatory  tribes,  to  be  but  the  hounds  of 
their  hunting-priest,  who  directed  their  incursions  by  their 
pleasure,  partly  for  sustenance,  partly  to  gratify  animosity, 
partly  to  foment  general  division,  and  always  for  the  better 
security  and  easier  domination  of  the  friars.^  Derrick,  the 
liveliness  and  minuteness  of  whose  descriptions  may  fre- 
quently apologize  for  his  doggerel  verses,  after  describing  an 
Irish  feast,  and  the  encouragement  given  by  the  songs  of  the 
bards  to  its  termination  in  an  incursion  upon  the  parts  of 
the  country  more  immediately  under  the  dominion  of  the 
English,  records  the  no  less  powerful  arguments  used  by  the 
friar  to  excite  their  animosity  :  — 

"  And  more  t'augment  tiie  flame, 

and  rancour  of  their  harte, 
The  frier,  of  his  counsells  vile, 

to  rebelles  doth  imparte 
Affirming  that  it  is 

an  ahnose  deede  to  God, 
To  make  the  Enghsh  subjects  taste 

the  Irish  rebells'  rodde. 
To  spoile,  to  kill,  to  burne, 

this  frier's  counsell  is  ; 
And  for  the  doing  of  the  same, 

he  warrantes  heavcnlie  blisse. 
He  telles  a  holie  tale  ; 

the  white  he  tournes  to  blacke  ; 
And  through  the  pardons  in  his  male, 

He  workes  a  knavislic  knacke." 

*  "  Lithgow's  Travels,"  first  edition,  p.  431. 


296  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE. 

The  wrcckful  invasion  of  a  pari  of  the  English  pale  is  liicn 
described  with  some  spirit;  the  burning  of  houses,  driving  ofT 
cattle,  and  all  pertaining  to  such  predatory  inroads,  are, illus- 
trated by  a  rude  cut.  The  defeat  of  the  Irish  by  a  party  of 
English  soldiers  from  the  next  garrison  is  then  commemo- 
rated, and  in  like  manner  adorned  with  an  engraving,  in 
which  the  friar  is  exhibited  mourning  over  the  slain  chieftain  ; 
or,  as  the  rubric  expresses  it, 

•'  The  frier  then,  that  treacherous  knave ;  with  ough  ough-hone  lament, 
To  see  his  cousin  Dcvil!'s-son  to  have  so  foul  event." 

The  matter  is  handled  at  great  length  in  the  text,  of  which 
the  following  verses  are  more  than  a  sufficient  sample  :  — 

"  The  frier  seying  this, 

lainentcs  that  lucklcssc  parte, 
And  curseth  to  tiie  pittc  of  hell 

the  death  man's  sturdic  harte 
Vet  for  to  quight  them  with 

The  frier  takcth  painc, 
For  all  the  synnes  that  ere  he  did 

remission  to  obtaine. 
And  therefore  serves  his  Ixxikc, 

the  candell  and  the  bell ; 
Hut  thinkc  you  that  such  apishe  toies 

bring  damned  souls  from  hell .' 
It  'longs  not  to  my  parte 

iiifernall  things  to  kuowe  ; 
Hut  I  iK'levc  till  later  dale, 

thei  rise  not  from  bclowc. 
Yet  hope  that  friers  give 

to  this  rcljcllious  rout. 
If  that  their  souls  should  cliaunce  in  hell. 

To  bring  them  quicklie  out, 
Doeth  make  them  lead  suclu-  lives, 

a.s  neither  (iod  nor  man, 
•    Without  revenge  for  their  dcsartcs, 

permittc  or  suffer  can. 
Thus  friers  arc  the  cause, 

the  fountain,  and  the  spring. 
Of  hurleburk-s  in  this  l.uule, 

«>f  eche  unhappie  thing. 


APPENDIX.  297 


Tliei  cause  them  to  rebelle 

against  their  soveraigiie  quenc, 
And  through  rebellion  often  tynies, 

their  lives  doe  vanishe  clene. 
So  as  by  friers  meanes, 

in  whom  all  follie  swimme, 
The  Irishe  karne  doe  often  lose 

the  life,  with  hedde  and  limme." 

As  the  Irish  tribes,  and  those  of  the  Scottish  Highlanders, 
are  much  more  intimately  allied  by  language,  manners,  dress, 
and  customs  than  the  antiquaries  of  either  country  have  been 
willing  to  admit,  I  flatter  myself  I  have  here  produced  a 
strong  warrant  for  the  character  sketched  in  the  text.  The 
following  picture,  though  of  a  different  kind,  serves  to  estab- 
lish the  existence  of  ascetic  religionists,  to  a  comparatively 
late  period,  in  the  Highlands  and  Western  Isles.  There  is  a 
great  deal  of  simplicity  in  the  description,  for  which,  as  for 
much  similar  information,  I  am  obliged  to  Dr.  John  Martin, 
who  visited  the  Hebrides  at  the  suggestion  of  Sir  Robert 
Sibbald,  a  Scottish  antiquarian  of  eminence,  and  early  in  the 
eighteenth  century  published  a  description  of  them,  which 
procured  him  admission  into  the  Royal  Society.  He  died  in 
London  about  17 19.  His  work  is  a  strange  mixture  of  learn- 
ing, observation,  and  gross  credulity- 

"  I  remember,"  says  this  author,  "  I  have  seen  an  old  lay- 
capuchin  here  (in  the  Island  of  Benbecula),  called  in  their 
language  Brahir-Bocht,  that  is,  Poor  Brother  ;  which  is  liter- 
ally true  ;  for  he  answers  this  character,  having  nothing  but 
what  is  given  him  :  he  holds  himself  fully  satisfied  with  food 
and  rayment,  and  lives  in  as  great  simplicity  as  any  of  his 
order  :  his  diet  is  very  mean,  and  he  drinks  only  fair  water; 

'  This  curious  picture  of  Ireland  was  inserted  by  the  author  in  the  republication 
of  Soniers'  Tracts,  vol.  i.,  in  which  the  plates  have  been  also  inserted,  from  the  only 
impressions  known  to  exist,  belonging  to  the  copy  in  the  Advocates'  Library.  See 
Soniers'  Tracts,  vol.  i.,  pp.  591,  594. 


29S  THE  L.inv  OF   THE  LAKE. 


his  habit  i.^  no  less  mortifying  than  that  of  his  brethren  else- 
where :  he  wears  a  short  coat,  which  comes  no  fartiier  than 
his  niiclclle,  with  narrow  sleeves  like  a  waistcoat  :  he  wears  a 
plad  above  it,  girt  about  the  middle,  which  reaches  to  his 
Knee  :  the  plad  is  fastened  on  his  breast  with  a  wooden  pin, 
his  neck  bare,  and  his  feet  often  so  too ;  he  wears  a  hat  for 
ornament,  and  the  string  about  it  is  a  bit  of  a  fisher's  line, 
niadi  of  horse-hair.  This  plad  he  wears  instead  of  a  gown 
worn  by  those  of  his  order  in  other  countries.  I  told  him  he 
wanted  the  flaxen  girdle  that  men  of  his  order  usually  wear  : 
he  answered  me,  that  he  wore  a  leathern  one,  which  was  the 
same  thing.  Upon  the  matter,  if  he  is  spoke  to  when  at 
meat,  he  answers  again  ;  which  is  contrary  to  the  custom  of 
his  order.  This  poor  man  frequently  diverts  himself  with 
angling  of  trouts  ;  he  lies  upon  straw,  and  has  no  bell  (as 
others  have)  to  call  him  to  his  devotions,  but  only  his  con- 
science, as  he  told  me."  —  Martin's  Description  of  the  West- 
ern Ilij^hlands^  p.  82. 

Note  H. 

Son II (if',  too.  tiad  coiiir  in  iiii(fiiii^/il  f>l<ist 

Of  cliari^iiii^  sfrrda.  carccrim^  fmt 

AfoiiQ'  /ifiitiarrov'.<  sti/iis^/v  side, 

irt/cre  morldl  lior^iiiiait  iiccr  iiii<rlit  ride.  —  I*.  1 14. 

A  I'KKSAGE  of  the  kind  alluded  to  in  the  text,  is  still  be- 
lieved to  aimounce  death  to  the  ancient  Highland  family  of 
M'Lean  of  Lochbuy.  The  s|)irit  of  an  ancestor  slain  in  bat- 
tle is  heard  to  galloj)  along  a  stony  bank,  and  then  to  ride 
thrice  around  the  family  residence,  ringing  his  fairy  bridle, 
and  thus  intimating  the  ajiproaching  calamity.  How  easily 
the  eye  as  well  as  the  ear  may  l)e  deceived  upon  such  occa- 
sions, is  eviflent  from  the  stories  of  armies  in  the  air,  and 
other  sj)eclral  phenomena,  with  which  history  abounds.    Such 


APPENDIX.  299 


an  apparition  is  said  to  have  been  witnessed  upon  the  side  of 
Southfell  niountaiiv  between  Penrith  and  Keswick,  upon  the 
23d  June,  1744,  by  two  persons,  William  Lancaster  of  Blake- 
hills,  and  Daniel  Stricket  his  servant,  whose  attestation  to  the 
fact,  with  a  full  account  of  the  apparition,  dated  the  21st 
July,  1745,  is  printed  in  Clarke's  "Survey  of  the  Lakes.'' 
The  apparition  consisted  of  several  troops  of  horse  moving 
in  regular  order,  with  a  steady  rapid  motion,  making  a  curved 
sweep  around  the  fell,  and  seeming  to  the  spectators  to  dis- 
appear over  the  ridge  of  the  mountain.  Many  persons  wit- 
nessed this  phenomenon,  and  observed  the  last,  or  last  but 
one,  of  the  supposed  troop,  occasionally  leave  his  rank,  and 
pass  at  a  gallop  to  the  front,  whei:  he  resumed  the  same 
steady  pace.  This  ctirious  appearance,  making  the  necessary 
allowance  for  imagination,  may  be  perhaps  sufficiently  ac- 
counted for  by  optical  deception.  —  Survey  of  the  Lakes, 
p.  25. 

Supernatural  intimations  of  approaching  fate  are  not,  I 
believe,  confined  to  Highland  families.  Howel  mentions 
having  seen,  at  a  lapidary's,  in  1632,  a  monumental  stone, 
prepared  for  four  persons  of  the  name  of  Oxenham,  before 
the  death  of  each  of  whom  the  inscription  stated  a  white  bird 
to  have  appeared  and  fluttered  around  the  bed  while  the 
patient  was  in  the  last  agony  {Familiar  Letters.^  edit.  1726, 
247.)  Glanville  mentions  one  family,  the  members  of  which 
received  this  solemn  sign  by  music,  tht  sound  of  which  floated 
from  the  family  residence,  and  seemed  to  die  in  a  neighbor- 
ing wood  ;  another,  that  of  Captain  Wood,  of  Bampton,  to 
whom  th3  signal  was  given  by  knocking.  But  the  most 
remarkable  instance  of  the  kind  occurs  in  the  MS.  Memoirs 
of  Lady  Fanshaw,  so  exemplary  for  her  conjugal  affection. 
Her  husband,  Sir  Richard,  and  she,  chanced,  during  their 
abode  in  Ireland,  to  visit  a  friend,  the  head  of  a  sept,  who 
resided    in    liis    ancient    baronial   castle,    surrounded  with  a 


500  T}[E  LADY  01'    THE  LAKE. 


moat.  Al  midniglu  she  was  awakened  by  a  ghastly  and 
supernatural  scream,  and,  looking  out  of  bed,  beheld,  by  ilie 
moonlight,  a  female  face  and  part  of  the  form,  hovering  at  ilie 
window.  The  distance  from  the  ground,  as  well  as  the  cir- 
cumstance of  the  moat,  excluded  the  possibility  lliat  what  she 
beheld  was  of  this  world.  The  face  was  that  of  a  young  and 
rather  handsome  woman,  but  pale  ;  and  the  hair,  which  was 
reddish,  was  loose  and  dishevelled.  The  dress,  which  Lady 
Fanshaw's  terror  did  not  prevent  her  remarking  accurately, 
was  that  of  the  ancient  Irish.  This  apparition  continued  to 
exhibit  itself  for  some  time,  and  then  vanished  with  two 
shrieks  similar  to  that  which  had  first  excited  Lady  Fan- 
shaw's attention.  \n  the  morning,  with  infinite  terror,  she 
communicated  to  her  host  what  she  had  witnessed,  and  found 
him  prepared  not  only  to  credit  but  to  account  for  the  aj^pari- 
tion.  "A  near  relation  of  my  family,"  said  he,  "expired  last 
night  in  this  castle.  We  disguised  our  certain  expectation  of 
the  event  from  vou,  lest  it  should  thro  '  a  cloud  over  the 
cheerful  reception  which  was  due  you.  Now,  before  such  an 
event  happens  in  this  family  and  castle,  the  female  spectre 
whom  you  have  seen  always  is  visible.  She  is  believed  to  be 
the  spirit  of  a  woman  of  inferior  rank,  whom  one  of  my  ances- 
tors degraded  himself  by  marrying  and  whom  afterwards,  to 
expiate  the  dishf)nor  done  his  family  he  caused  to  be  drowned 
in  the  castle  moat." 

NOTK    L 

T/tc  Tai^liairm  caJV  d :  by  -i/iir/i,  a far, 

Oiir  sins Jorcsa-^'  //u-  izuu/s  of  war.  — P.  14S. 

TnK  Highlanders,  like  all  rude  people,  had  various  super- 
stitious modes  of  iiK|uiring  into  futurity.  One  of  the  most 
noted  was  the  Tci}^lhxirm.  mentionetl  in  the  text.  A  person 
was  wrappeil    up  in   a   bkiu  ol   a  newly  .slain   bullock,   and 


APPENDIX.  301 


deposited  beside  a  waterfall,  or  at  the  bottom  of  a  precipice, 
or  in  some  other  strange,  wild,  and  unusual  situation,  where 
the  scenery  around  him  suggested  nothing  but  objects  of 
horror.  In  this  situation  he  revolved  in  his  mind  the  ques- 
tion proposed :  and  whatever  was  impressed  upon  him  by  his 
exalted  imagination,  passed  for  the  inspiration  of  the  disem- 
bodied spirits,  who  haunt  the  desolate  recesses.  In  some  of 
these  Plebrides,  they  attribute  the  same  oracular  power  to  a 
large  black  stone  by  the  sea-shore,  which  they  approached 
with  certain  solemnities,  and  considered  the  first  fancy  which 
came  into  their  own  minds,  after  they  did  so,  to  be  the  un- 
doubted dictate  of  the  tutelar  deity  of  the  stone,  and,  as  such, 
to  be,  if  possible,  punctually  complied  with.  Martin  has 
recorded  the  following  curious  modes  of  Highland  augury,  in 
which  the  Taghairm,  and  its  effects  upon  the  person  who  was 
subjected  to  it,  may  serve  to  illustrate  the  text. 

"  It  was  an  ordinary  thing  among  the  over-curious  to  con- 
sult an  invisible  oracle,  concerning  the  fate  of  families  and 
battles,  etc.  This  was  performed  three  different  ways :  the 
first  was  by  a  company  of  men,  one  of  whom,  being  detached 
by  lot,  was  afterwards  carried  to  a  river,  which  was  the  boun- 
dary between  two  villages  ;  four  of  the  company  laid  hold  on 
him,  and,  having  shut  his  eyes,  they  took  him  by  the  legs  and 
arms,  and  then,  tossing  him  to  and  again,  struck  his  hips 
with  force  against  the  bank.  One  of  them  cried  out.  What  is 
it  you  have  got  here  ?  another  answers,  A  log  of  birch-wood. 
The  other  cries  again.  Let  his  invisible  friends  appear  from 
all  quarters,  and  let  them  relieve  him  by  giving  an  answer  to 
our  present  demands :  and  in  a  few  minutes  after,  a  number 
of  little  creatures  came  from  the  sea,  who  answered  the  ques- 
tion, and  disappeared  suddenly.  The  man  was  then  set  at 
liberty,  and  they  all  returned  home,  to  take  their  measures 
according  to  the  prediction  of  their  false  prophets  ;  but  the 
poor  deluded  fools  were  abused,  for  their  answer  was  still 


"?02  TUE   LADV  OF   TIIE  LAKE. 


ainbicriunis.     'I'liis  was  alwavs  practist-d  in  the  nit;ht,  and  may 
literally  l)c  called  the  works  of  darkness. 

"  I  had  an  account  from  the  most  inlelli<;ent  and  judicic  lis 
men  in  the  Isle  of  h^kie,  that  about  sixty-two  jears  atjo,  the 
oracle  was  thus  consulted  only  once,  and  that  was  in  the 
parish  of  Kihnartin,  on  the  east  side,  by  a  wicked  and  mis- 
ch.ievous  race  of  peopkv  who  are  now  extinguished,  both  root 
and  branch. 

"The  second  way  of  consulting  the  oracle  was  by  a  party 
of  men,  who  first  retired  to  solitary  places,  remote  ft<  m  ain 
house,  and  there  they  singled  out  one  of  their  number,  and 
wrapt  him  in  a  big  cow's  hide,  which  they  folded  about  him; 
his  whole  body  was  covered  with  it,  except  his  head,  and  so 
left  in  this  posture  all  night,  imtil  his  invisible  friends  relieved 
him,  by  giving  a  proper  answer  to  the  question  in  hand  ; 
which  he  received,  as  he  fancied,  from  several  persons  thai 
he  found  about  him  all  that  lime.  His  consorts  returned  to 
him  at  the  break  of  day,  and  then  he  communicated  his  news 
to  them  ;  which  often  proved  faial  to  those  concerned  in  such 
unwarrantable  inquiries. 

"There  was  a  third  way  of  consulting,  which  was  a  confir- 
mation of  the  second  above  mentioned.  The  same  company 
who  put  the  man  into  the  hide,  took  a  live  cat.  and  put  him 
on  a  spit ;  one  of  the  number  was  employed  to  turn  the  spit, 
and  one  of  his  consorts  inquired  of  him,  What  are  you  doing? 
he  answered,  I  roast  this  cat,  until  his  friends  answer  the 
question ;  which  must  be  the  same  thai  was  proposed  by  the 
man  shut  up  in  the  hide.  .And  afterwards,  a  very  big  cat 
comes,  attended  by  a  number  of  lesser  cats,  desiring  to 
relieve  the  cat  turned  upon  the  spit,  and  then  answers  the 
question.     If  this  answer  proved  the  same  that  was  given  to 

'  The  reader  m.iy  have  met  with  the  story  of  the  "  Kins  of  the  Cats,"  in  Lord 
Littleton's  Letters.     It  is  well  known  in  the  lliglilands  as  a  nursejy  tale. 


APPENDIX.  305 


the  man  in  the  hide,  then  it  was  taken  as  a  confirmation  of 
the  other,  which,  in  this  case,  was  baUeved  infallible. 

*'  Mr.  Alexander  Cooper,  present  minister  of  North- Vist 
told  me  that  one  John  Erach,  in  the  Isle  of  Lewis,  assured 
him  it  was  his  fate  to  have  been  led  by  his  curiosity  with 
some  who  consulted  this  oracle,  and  that  he  was  a  right 
within  the  hide,  as  above  mentioned ;  during  which  time  he 
felt  and  heard  such  terrible  things,  that  he  could  not  express 
them ;  the  impression  it  made  on  him  was  such  as  could 
never  go  off,  and  he  said,  for  a  thousand  worlds  he  would 
never  again  be  concerned  in  the  like  performance,  for  this 
had  disordered  him  to  a  high  degree.  He  confessed  it  ingen- 
uously, and  with  an  air  of  great  remorse,  and  seemed  to  be 
penitent  under  a  just  sense  of  so  great  a  crime  :  he  declared 
this  about  five  years  since,  and  is  still  living  in  the  Lewis  for 
anything  I  know."  —  Description  of  the  Western  Isles,  p.  no. 
See  also  Pennant's  Scottish  Tour,  vol.  ii.,  p.  361. 

Note  K. 

Alice  Bratzd.  —  P.  159. 

This  little  fairy  tale  is  founded  upon  a  very  curious  Danish 
ballad,  which  occurs  in  the  Kizmpe  Viser,  a  collection  of  heroic 
songs,  first  published  in  1591,  and  reprinted  in  1695,  in- 
scribed by  Anders  Sofrensen,  the  collector  and  editor  to 
Sophia,  Queen  of  Denmark.  I  have  been  favored  with  a 
literal  translation  of  the  original,  by  my  learned  friend  Mr. 
Robert  Jamieson,  whose  deep  knowledge  of  Scandinavian 
antiquities  will,  I  hope,  one  day  be  displayed  in  illustration 
of  the  history  of  Scottish  Ballad  and  Song,  for  which  no 
man  possesses  more  ample  materials.  The  story  will  remind 
the  readers  of  the  Border  Minstrelsy  of  the  tale  of  Young 
Tamlane.  But  this  is  only  a  solitary  and  not  very  marked 
instance  of  coincidence,  whereas  several  of  the  other  ballads 


304  Tin-:  L.iPy  of  rui-:  j.aki:. 


in  the  same  collection  find  exact  counteri)arts  in  tiie  A\cm/>e 
I'isi'r.  Which  may  have  been  the  originals,  will  be  a  question 
lor  future  antiquaries.  .Mr.  Jamieson,  to  secure  the  power  of 
literal  translation,  has  adopted  the  old  Scottish  idiom,  which 
approaches  so  near  to  that  of  the  Danish,  as  almost  to  give 
word  tor  word,  as  well  as  line  for  line,  and  indeed  in  many 
verses  the  orthography  alone  is  altered.  As  Wester  JhiJ, 
mentioned  in  the  first  stan/as  of  the  ballad,  means  the  West 
Sea,  in  opposition  to  the  ])aliic,  or  Eixst  Sea,  Mr.  Jamieson 
inclines  to  be  of  opinion,  that  the  scene  of  the  disenchant- 
ment is  laid  in  one  of  the  Orkney  or  Hebride  Islands.  I'o 
each  verse  in  the  original  is  added  a  buri;len,  having  a  kind 
of  meaning  of  its  own,  but  not  applicable,  at  least  not  uni- 
formly a])plicable,  to  the  sense  of  the  stanza  to  which  it  is 
subjoined;  this  is  very  common,  both  in  Danish  and  Scottish 
song. 

THE    F.I.riN    GRAY. 

TRANSLATED   FROM    TIIK    UAMSIl    K.KMIK   VISKR,    PAGE    I43,    AND    lUtST 

ruiiLisiir.ij  IN  1591. 

Dcr  ligs^cr  en  void  i  Vestcr  HaJ, 

Drr  agter  en  botttii  at  byggi . 
Hand  f'orcr  did  haad>  liiig  og  h'ind, 

Og  aglcr  dcr  i»n  vintcrcn  at  Hggi- 
(Ub  VILDE    DIUR    Ui;    IMURENE    UDI   SKORVEN. 

I. 

There  lijjgs  a  wold  in  Wester  Ilaf, 

There  a  huslxinde  means  fo  bit;.!,', 
And  thither  he  carries  bait!)  hawk  and  hound. 

There  mcaninij  the  winter  to  ligjj. 
(  The  wild  deer  and  daes  P  the  ihaiv  oitl.'y 

IT. 
He  talcs  wi'him  haith  honnd  and  cock, 

The  larger  he  means  to  stay, 
The  wild  deer  in  the  sliaws  that  .ire, 

May  sairly  rue  the  d,iy. 
( I'he  wild  deer,  etc.) 


APPENDIX.  305 


III. 
He's  hew'd  the  beech,  and  he's  fell'd  the  aik, 

Sae  has  he  the  poplar  gray  ; 
And  grim  in  mood  was  the  grewsome  elf, 

That  be  sae  bald  he  may. 

IV. 

He  hew'd  him  kipples,  he  hew'd  him  hawks, 

Wi'  niickle  moil  and  haste  ; 
Syne  speer'd  the  Elf  i'  the  knock  that  bade 

"  Wha's  hackins;  here  sae  fast  ? " 


Syne  up  and  spak  the  weiest  Elf, 

Crean'd  as  an  immert  sma ; 
"  It's  here  is  come  a  Christian  man  ;  — 

I'll  tley  him  or  he  ga." 

VI. 

It's  up  syne  started  the  firsten  Elf, 

And  glowr'd  about  sae  grim  : 
"  It's  we'll  awa  to  the  husbande's  house. 

And  hald  a  court  on  him. 

VII. 

"  Here  hews  he  down  bai  h  skugg  and  shaw, 
And  works  us  skaith  and  scorn  : 

His  huswife  he  sal!  gie  to  me;  — 
They's  rue  the  day  they  were  born  ! 


The  Elfen  a'  i'  the  knock  that  were, 

Gaed  dancing  in  a  string  : 
They  nighed  near  the  husband's  house; 

Sae  lang  their  tails  did  hing. 


The  hound  he  yowls  i'  the  yard, 
The  herd  toots  in  his  horn  , 


306  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE. 


The  earn  scraii;hs,  aiul  tlic  cock  cr.iws, 
As  the  liusbaiide  has  gi'cii  him  liis  corn.' 

X. 

The  Elfen  were  five  score  and  s.  ven, 

Sai  laklly  and  sac  grim  ; 
And  Ihey  the  huslxind's  guests  maun  be, 

To  cat  and  drink  wi'  him. 

XI. 

The  husbande,  out  o'  Villcnshaw 
At  iiis  winnock  tiic  Klvcs  can  see: 

"  Help  me,  now,  Jcsu,  Mary's  son  ; 
Tiiir  Eh'cs  tlicy  niMit  at  mel  " 

XII. 

In  every  nook  a  cross  lie  coost, 

In  his  chahner  maist  ava; 
The  IClfen  a'  were  fley'd  tlicrcat, 

And  Hew  to  tlic  wild-wood  shaw. 

XIII. 
And  some  flew  east,  and  some  flew  west, 

And  some  to  the  norwart  Hew ; 
And  some  tlicy  flew  to  the  deep  dale  ;lown. 

There  still  tluy  arc  I  trow.* 

XIV. 

If  was  then  the  weist  Elf, 

ki  at  the  door  liraids  he  ; 
Agitst  was  the  husbande,  for  that  Elf 

l-'or  cross  nor  sign  wad  flee. 


•  This  singular  quatrain  stands  thus  in  the  original :  - 
"  Ihmden  hand  gior  i  gaardcn  ; 

Hiordcn  tudJ:  i  sit  horn; 
CErnen  skrigcr,  og  hanen  galcr, 
Som  bondcn  hafdt  gif\ct  sit  kom. 
■'   III  the  Danish  :  — 

"  .Somnit  floyfe  ostcr,  og  sommJ;  floyb  vcstcr, 
Nogle  fliiyt  n(>r  paa  , 
Nogli;  floyt  ncd  i  dNlx-ne  dal^, 
]cg  troucT  dc  ah  der  cndnu." 


APPENDIX.  307 


XV. 

The  huswife  she  was  a  canny  wife, 

She  set  the  Elf  at  the  board  ; 
She  set  before  him  baith  ale  and  meat 
Wi'  niony  a  weel-waled  word. 

XVI. 

"  Hear  thou,  Gudeman  o'  Villensfiaw, 

What  now  I  say  to  thee  ; 
Wha  bade  thee  bigg  within  our  bounds, 

Without  the  leave  o'  me  ? 

XVII. 

"  But,  an  thou  in  our  bounds  will  bigg, 
And  bide  as  well  as  may  be, 

Then  thou  thy  dearest  huswife  maun 
To  me  for  a  lemnian  gie." 

XVIIl. 

Up  spak  the  luckless  husbande  then, 

As  God  the  grace  him  gae; 
''  Eline  she  is  to  me  sae  dear, 

Her  thou  may  nae-gate  hae." 

XIX. 

Till  the  Elf  he  answered  as  he  couth  ; 

"  Lat  but  my  huswife  be. 
And  take  whate'er,  o'  gude  or  gear 

Is  mine,  awa  wi"  thee." 

XX. 

"  Thine  I'll  thy  Eline  tak  and  thee, 

Aneath  my  feet  to  tread ; 
And  hide  thy  goud  and  white  monie 

Aneath  my  dwelling  stead." 

XXI. 

The  husbande  and  his  househald  a' 

In  sary  rede  they  join  : 
''  Far  better  that  she  be  now  forfaim, 

Nor  that  we  a'  should  tyne." 


'^oS  THE  LA  in'  or  the  lake. 


XMI. 


Up,  will  of  rede,  the  liusbande  stood, 

\Vi'  heart  fu'  sad  and  sair; 
And  he  has  sjien  his  huswife  Eline 

Wi'  the  young  Klfc  to  fare. 

XXIII. 

Then  blyth  grew  he,  and  sj^rang  about 

lie  took  her  in  liis  arm  ; 
The  rud  it  lett  her  comely  cheek ; 

Her  heart  was  clem'd  wi'  harm. 

XXIV. 

A  waefu'  woman  then  she  was  ane. 
And  the  moody  tears  loot  fa' ; 

God  rew  rr  mc,  unseely  wife, 
How  hard  a  weird  I  fa  1 

XXV. 

•'  My  fay  1  plight  to  the  fairest  wight 
That  man  on  mold  mat  sec ;  — 

Maun  I  now  mell  v/i'  a  laidly  El, 
IJis  light  Icmman  to  be!" 

XXVI. 

He  minted  ance  —  he  minted  twice, 
Wae  wax'd  her  heart  that  syth  : 

Syne  the  laidliest  fiend  he  grew  that  I'er 
To  mortal  ce  did  kyth. 

XXVII. 

When  he  the  thirden  time  can  mint 

To  Mary's  son  she  pray'd. 
And  the  laidly  Elf  was  cle-m  awa, 

And  a  fair  knight  in  his  stead. 

XXVIII. 

This  fell  under  a  linden  green, 
That  again  his  shape  he  found; 

0  wae  and  care  was  the  word  nac  mair, 
A'  were  sac  glad  that  stound. 

XXIX 

"  O  flearcst  Ehne,  ho.ir  thou  this, 


And  thou  my  wife  sail  be, 


APPENDIX. 


309 


And  a'  the  goiul  in  merry  England 
Sae  freely  I'll  gi'c  thee ! 

XXX. 

"  Whan  I  was  but  a  little  wee  bairn, 

My  mithcr  died  me  fni ; 
My  stepmither  sent  me  awa  fra  her ; 

I  turn'd  till  an  El/in  Gray. 

XXXI. 

"  To  thy  husbande  I  a  gift  will  gie, 

Wi'  mickle  state  and  gear, 
As  mends  for  Eline  his  huswife;  — 

Thou's  be  my  heartis  dear."  — 

XXXII. 

"  Thou  nobil  knyght,  we  thank  now  God 
That  has  freed  us  frae  skaith  ; 

Sae  wed  thou  thee  a  maiden  free, 
And  joy  attend  ye  baith ! 

XXXIII. 

"  Sin  I  to  thee  nae  maik  can  be 

My  dochter  may  be  thine ; 
And  thy  gud  will  right  to  fulfill, 

Lat  this  be  our  propine."  — 

XXXIV. 

"  I  thank  thee,  Eline,  thou  wise  woman; 

My  praise  thy  worth  sail  ha'e ; 
And  thy  love  gin  I  fail  to  win, 

Thou  here  at  hame  sail  stay." 

XXXV. 

The  husbande  biggit  now  on  his  oe. 
And  nane  ane  wrought  him  wrang; 

His  dochter  wore  crown  in  Engeland, 
And  happy  lived  and  lang. 

XXXVI. 

Now  Eline,  the  husbande's  huswife  has 
Cour'd  a'  her  grief  and  harms 

She's  mither  to  a  noble  queen 
That  sleeps  in  a  kingis  arms. 


310 


THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE. 


GLOSSARY   TO   "THE    ELFIN    f.RAY." 


STANZA    I. 

Wold,  a.  wood ;  woody  fastness. 

Hiisbande,  from  the  Danish  IiTis,  witli, 
and  bonde,  a  villain,  or  bondsman, 
who  was  a  cultivator  of  the  ground, 
and  could  not  quit  the  estate  to  which 
he  was  attached,  without  the  permis- 
sion of  his  lord.  This  is  the  sense  of 
the  word  in  the  old  Scottish  records. 
In  the  Scottish  "  Burghe  Laws," 
translated  from  the  Reg.  Majcst. 
(.\uchinleck  MS.  in  the  Adv.  Lib.), 
it  is  used  indiscriminately  with  the 
Danish  and  Swedish  bondc. 

Bigg,  build. 

Ligg,  lie. 

Dacs,  does. 

STANZA   11. 

Shnw,  wood. 
Sairly,  sorely. 

STANZA    III. 

Aik,  oak. 

Grcirsomc,  terrible. 
Bald,  bold. 

STANZA    IV. 

fCifflcs  (couples),  beams  joined  at  the 
lop,  for  supporting  a  roof,  in  building. 
liawkf,  balks ;  cross  beams. 
.\foil,  1.-ilx)rious  industry. 
S/ccr'd,  xskcd. 
Knock,  hillock. 

STANZA   V. 

Weiest,  smallest. 

Crcan\{,  shrunk,  diminished  ;  from  the 
Oaclic,  crian,  very  small. 

hnmcrt,  emmet ;  ant. 

Christian,  used  in  the  Danish  Inllads, 
etc.,  in  contradi-^tinction  to  dcmoniar, 
AS  it  is  in  En;;l.ind  in  contr.:distinc- 
tioii  to  brute;  in  which  »cnsc,  a  per- 


son of  the  lower  class  in    Englard. 
would  call  a  'Jcxu  or  a  Turk,  a  Chris- 
tian. 
Flcy,  frighten. 

STANZA  VI. 
Glmvr'd,  stared. 
Hald,  hold. 

STANZA   VII. 

Skitgg,  shade. 
Skaith,  harm. 

STANZA   VIII. 

Nighcd,  approached. 

STANZA  IX. 

Yowls,  howls. 

Toots.  —  In  tlio  Danish  /«(/^  is  ap]ilied 

both  to  the  howling  of  a  dog,  and  the 

sound  of  a  horn. 
Siraic/ic,  screams. 

STANZA    X. 

Laidly,  loathly ;  disgustingly  ugly. 
Grim,  fierce. 

STANZA    XI, 

Winnock,  window. 
Mint,  aim  at. 

STANZA    XII 

Coost  cast. 
Chalmcr,  chamber. 
Maist,  most. 
Ava,  of  all. 

STANZA    XIII. 

Norivart,  northward. 
Tr/rif.  Ixriievc. 

STANZA    XIV. 

JhiiiJi,  strides  quickly  forward 
If',/,/,  would. 

STANZA    XV. 

Ctiiiiiy,  adroit. 
Afotiy,  many. 
IVcel-waitd,  well  chosen. 


APPENDIX. 


311 


STANZA   XVII. 

An,  if. 
Bide,  abide. 
Lemman,  mistress. 

STANZA    XVIII. 

Nae-gatt,  nowise. 

STANZA   XIX. 

Couth,  could,  Icnew  how  to. 
Lat  be,  let  alone. 
Glides,  goods ;  property. 

STANZA   XX. 

Aneath,  beneath. 
Dwalling-stead,  dwelling-place. 

STANZA   XXI. 

Sary,  sorrowful. 
Rede,  counsel ;  consultation. 
Forfairn,  forlorn  ;  lost,  gone. 
Tyne  (verb  neuter),  be  lost ;  perish. 

STANZA   XXII. 

Wile  of  rede,  bewildered  in  thought ;  in 
the  Danish  original,  "vildyaadage ;" 
Lat.  "  inops  consilii  ;  "  Gr.  anopov. 
This  expression  is  left  among  the 
desiderata  in  the  Glossary  to  Rit- 
son's  Romances,  and  has  never  been 
explained.  It  is  obsolete  in  the  Dan- 
ish as  well  as  in  English. 

Fare,  go. 

STANZA    XXIII. 

Rted,  red  of  the  cheek. 

Clem'd,  in  the  Danish,  klemt  (which,  in 
the  north  of  England,  is  still  in  use, 
as  the  word  starved  is  with  us); 
brought  to  a  dying  state.  It  is  used 
by  our  old  comedians. 

Harm,  grief;  as  in  the  original,  and  in 
the  old  Teutonic,  English,  and  Scot- 
tish poetry. 

STANZA    XXIV. 
Wacfii,  woful. 

Moody,  strongly  and  wilfully  passionate. 
Rew,  tak?  ruth  ;  pity. 


Unscely,  unhappy ;  unblest. 

Weird,  fate. 

Fa{\^.  Dan.  and  Swed.)  take;  get; 
acquire ;  procure ;  have  for  my  lot. 
This  Gothic  verb  answers,  in  its 
direct  and  secondary  significations, 
exactly  to  the  Latin  capio ;  and  Allan 
Ramsay  was  right  in  his  definition  of 
it.  It  is  quite  a  different  word  from 
/a',  an  abbreviation  of  fall,  or  befall ; 
and  is  the  principal  root  in  fengan, 
to  fang,  take,  or  lay  hold  jf. 

STANZA   XXV. 

Fay,  faith. 

Mold,  mould ;  earth. 

Mat,  mote ;  might. 

Maun,  must. 

Mell,  mix. 

El,  an  elf.  This  term  in  the  Welsh, 
signifies  -what  has  in  itself  the  power 
of  motion  ;  a  tnoving  principle  ;  an 
intelligence  ;  a  spirit ;  an  angel.  In 
the  Hebrew  it  bears  the  same  import. 

STANZA    XXVI. 

Minted,  attempted  ;  meant ;  showed  a 
mind,  or  intention  to.  The  original 
is  :  — 

"  Hande  miiidte  hende  forst  —  og  an- 
den  gang ;  — 

Hun  giordis  i  hiortet  sa  vee : 

End  blef  hand  den  lediste  deifvel 

INIand  kunde  med  oyen  see. 

Der  hand  vilde  niinde  den  tredie 
gang,"  etc. 

Syth,  tide ;  time. 

Kyth,  appear. 

STANZA  JCXVIII. 

Stoitnd,  hour  ;  time ;  moment. 

STANZA    XXIX. 

Merry  (old  Teutonic  mere),  famous; 
renowned;  answering  in  its  etymo- 
logical meaning,  exactly  to  the  Latin 
Mactus.      Hence  mcrry-inen,  as  the 


312 


THE  LADY  OF    THE  LAKE. 


address  of  a  chief  to  his  followers  ; 
meaning,  not  men  of  mirth,  but  of 
renown.  The  term  is  found  m  its 
original  sense  in  the  Gaelic  iiiara, 
and  the  Welsh  mawr,  great ;  and  in 
the  oldest  Teutonic  Romances,  mar, 
mcr,  and  mere,  have  sometimes  tiie 
same  signification. 

STANZA   x.xxi. 
Mentis,  amends ;  recompense. 


-STANZA    XX.XIII. 

Maik,  match  ;  peer  ;  equal. 
Proline,  pledge ;  gift. 

STANZA    XXXV. 

Oc,  an  island  of  the  second  magnitude; 
an  island  of  the  first  magnitude  being 
called  a  land,  and  one  of  the  thtni 
magnitude  a  holm. 

STANZA    XXXVI. 

Coiir'd,  recovered 


THE    GIIAIST'S    W.\RNING. 

TRANSLATIilJ    I-KOM    TIIE    DANISH    K.EMI'E    VISER,  V \V,V.    J2\. 

[By  the  jjermission  of  Mr.  Jamicson,  this  ballad  is  added  from  the  same  curious 
collection.     It  contains  some  jiassages  of  great  pathos.] 


Svend  Dyring  hand  rider  sig  op  under  ol, 

(  Vari  jeg  selver  ting) 
Der  f(este  hand  sig  saa  ven  en  mob. 

(Mig  lystcr  udi  liinden  at  ridl,)  etc. 


Child  Dvring  has  ridden  him  up  under  iic,' 

{.■hill  Ogin  /  ircre  young .') 
There  wctldcd  he  him  sae  fair  *  a  may. 

( /'  the  greenwood  it  lists  me  to  ride. ) 

Thegither  they  lived  for  seven  lang  year, 

(.ind  0,ete.) 
And  they  seven  kiirns  h.ie  gotten  in  fere. 

(/'  the  greenwood,  etc.) 

'  "  Under  6c.  —  The  original  expression  li.is  Ixen  preserved  here  and  elsewhere, 
because  no  other  could  be  found  to  supply  its  pl.icc.  There  is  just  as  much  mean 
ing  in  it  in  the  translation  as  in  the  original  :  but  it  is  a  st.mdard  Danish  Iwllar! 
phrase;  and  as  such,  it  is  hnjufl,  will  Ix;  allowed  to  pass. 

*  '*  /•'(;/>."  —  'Ihc  n.uiish  and  .Swedish  vcn,  -.an,  or  venne,  and  the  (Jaelic  bUn, 
in  the  oblique  cases  IdiHn  (-;hi),  is  the  origin  of  the  Scottish  bonny,  which  has  so 
much  puzzled  all  the  etymologists. 


APPENDIX.  3  I  3 


Sae  Death's  come  there  intill  that  stead, 
And  that  winsome  lily  flower  is  dead. 

That  swain  he  has  ridden  him  up  under  oe, 
And  syne  he  has  married  anithcr  may. 

He's  married  a  may,  and  he's  fessen  her  hame  ; 
But  she  was  a  grim  and  laidly  dame. 

When  into  the  castell  court  drave  she, 

The  seven  bairns  stood  wi'  the  tear  in  tlieir  ee. 


The  bairns  they  stood  wi'  dule  and  doubt ;  — 
She  up  wi'  her  foot,  and  she  kicked  them  out. 

Nor  ale  nor  meed  to  the  bairnies  she  gave : 
"  But  hunger  and  hate  frae  me  ye's  have." 

She  took  frae  them  the  bowster  blae, 
And  said,  "  Ye  sail  ligg  i'  the  bare  strae! " 

She  took  frae  them  the  groff  wax-light : 

Says,  "  Now  ye  sail  ligg  i'  the  mirk  a'  night ! " 


'Twas  lang  i'  the  night,  and  tlie  bairnies  grat ; 
Their  mither  she  under  the  mools  heard  that ; 


That  heard  the  wife  under  the  card  that  lay ; 
"  For  sooth  maun  I  to  my  bairnies  gae !  " 

That  wife  can  stand  up  at  our  Lord's  knee, 
And  "  May  I  gang  and  my  bairnies  see ! " 

She  prigged  sae  sair,  and  she  prigged  sae  lang 
That  he  at  the  last  ga'e  her  leave  to  gang. 

"  And  thou  sail  come  back  when  the  cork  does  craw ; 
For  thou  nae  langer  sail  bide  awa." 


314  THE  LAnV  OF  77/ ic  L.Ik-/:. 

Wi'  her  banes  sae  stark  a  bowt  she  gae: 
Slic's  riven  baith  wa'  and  marble  gray."  ' 

When  near  to  the  dwallinj;  she  can  gang, 
The  dogs  tliey  wow'd  till  the  lift  it  rang. 

When  she  came  till  the  castell  yett, 
Her  eldest  dochtcr  stood  thereat. 

1 
"  Why  stand  ye  here,  dear  dochtcr  mine? 
llow  arc  sma  brithers  and  sisters  thine? " — 

"  For  sooth  yc  ru  .i  woman  baith  fair  and  line 
But  yc  are  na  dear  mithcr  of  mine."  — 

"  Och  !  how  should  I  be  fine  or  fair  ? 

My  check  it  is  pale,  and  the  ground's  my  lair. — 

"  My  mithcr  was  white,  wi'  check  sac  red ; 
But  thou  art  wan,  and  likcr  anc  dead."  — 

"  Och  !  how  should  1  be  white  and  red, 
Sae  lang  as  I've  been  cauld  and  dead?" 

When  she  cam  till  the  chalmcr  in. 

Down  thu  bairns'  cheeks  tlu-  tcar^.  did  riii. 

She  buskit  the  tanc,  and  she  brush'd  it  there 
She  kcni'd  and  plaited  the  tithcr's  hair. 

The  tl.irden  she  doo<ird  upon  her  knee, 
.And  the  fourthen  she  dichtcd  sac  cannilic. 


'  'l"hc  original  of  this  and  the  following  stanza  is  very  fine: 
"  iliin  skod  op  sine  niodigt  Ijccn, 
Dcr  rcvcncdd  miiur  og  gnui  marmorstecn. 
Der  hnn  gik  igcnnicm  den  by, 
Dc  hiindi  de  ttidi  saa  Iwjt  i  sky." 


APPENDIX.  315 


She's  ta'en  the  fifthen  upon  her  lap, 
And  sweetly  suckled  it  at  her  pap. 

Till  her  eldest  dochter  syne  said  she, 
"  Ye  bid  Child  Dyring  come  here  to  me." 

When  he  cam  till  the  chalmer  in, 
Wi'  angry  mood  she  said  to  him : 

"  I  left  you  routh  o'  ale  and  bread ; 

My  bairnies  quail  for  hunger  and  need. 

"I  left  ahmd  me  braw  bowsters  blae ; 
My  bairnies  are  liggmg  i'  the  bare  strae. 

"  I  left  ye  sae  mony  a  groff  wax-lighf  ; 
My  bairnies  ligg  i'  the  mirk  a'  nicht. 

"  Gin  aft  I  come  back  to  visit  thee, 
Wae,  dowy,  and  weary  thy  luck  shall  be." 

Up  spak  little  Kirstin  in  bed  that  lay : 
"  To  thy  bairnies  I'll  do  the  best  I  may." 

Aye  when  they  heard  the  dog  nirr  and  bell, 
Sae  ga'e  they  the  bairnies  bread  and  ale. 

Aye  when  the  dog  did  wow,  in  haste 

They  cross'd  and  sain'd  themselves  frae  the  ghaist. 

Aye  whan  the  little  dog  yowl'd,  with  fear 

{And  O  gin  I  were  young.') 
They  shook  at  the  thought  that  the  dead  was  near. 

r  the  greenwood  it  lists  me  to  ride.) 
or, 

(Fair  words  sac  mony  a  Itcarl  they  cheer.) 


-,i6 


THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE. 


GLOSSARV   TO   •TIIM   (WIAISTS    WAKMNC." 


Miiy,  maid. 

Lists,  pleases. 

Ukait,  place. 

Bairns,  cliildrcn. 

Ill  fcrc,  together. 

Winsome,    engaging;   giving  joy   (old 

Teutonic.) 
Sync,  then. 

I'tsscn,  fetched,  brought. 
Drave,  drove. 
Ditlc,  sorrow. 
Dotit,  fear. 

Bowstcr,  bolster ;  cushion  ;  bed. 
lilac,  blue. 
Strac,  straw. 

Groff,  great :  large  in  girt. 
Mark,  mirk  ;  dark 
Laui;  P  llic  night,  late. 
Grat^  wept. 
Mools,  mould ;  cartn. 
Eard,  earth. 
Gac,  go. 
^'''iW'^i  entreated  earnestly  and  per- 

scvcringly. 
Gani^,  go. 
Cra7V.  crow. 
Bancs,  l>)nes. 
Stark,  strong. 
Boift.  Ixilt ;  elastic  spriiii,'.  like  that  of  a 

bolt,  or  arrow  from  a  bow. 


Riven,  split  asunder 

Wa\  wail. 

Woii'd,  howled. 

Lift,  sky ;  Hrniament ;  air. 

Yctt,  gate. 

Sma,  small 

Lire,  complexion. 

CalJ,  cold. 

Till,  to. 

Rin,  run. 

Buskit,  dressed. 

Kcin\l,  combed. 

Tithcr,  the  other. 

Routh,  plenty. 

Quail,  are  quelled ;  die. 

Need,  want. 

Ahind,  Ix'liiiid. 

Braw,  brave ;  fine. 

DiTwy,  sorrowful. 

Nirr,  snarl. 

Bell,  bark. 

Sained,  blessed :  literally,  sij;-ncd  with 
the  siqn  of  Ihe  cross.  Before  the 
introduction  of  Christianity,  Runes 
were  used  in  sainini;,  as  a  spell 
against  the  power  of  enchantment 
and  evil  genii. 

Gliaist,  ghost 


APPENDIX.  11"] 


Note  L. 

Why  sounds  yon  stroke  on  beech  and  oak. 

Our  moonlight  circlets  screen  F 
Or  -who  comes  here  to  chase  the  deer. 

Beloved  of  our  Elfin  ^ueen  ?  —  P.  162. 

It  has  been  already  observed,  that  fairies,  if  not  positively 
malevolent,  are  capricious,  and  easily  offended.  They  are, 
like  other  proprietors  of  forests,  peculiarly  jealous  of  their 
rights  of  vert  and  vefiison,  as  appears  from  the  cause  of  of- 
fence taken,  in  the  original  Danish  ballad.  This  jealousy  was 
also  an  attribute  of  the  northern  Duergar,  or  dwarfs ;  to  many 
of  whose  distinctions  the  fairies  seem  to  have  succeeded,  if, 
indeed,  they  are  not  the  same  class  of  beings.  In  the  huge 
metrical  record  of  German  Chivalry,  entitled  the  Helden- 
Buch,  Sir  Hildebrand,  and  the  other  heroes  of  whom  it  treats, 
are  engaged  in  one  0/  their  most  desperate  adventures,  from 
a  rash  violation  of  the  rose-garden  of  an  Elfin,  or  Dwarf 
King. 

There  are  yet  traces  of  a  belief  in  this  worst  and  most  mali- 
cious order  of  Fairies  among  the  border  wilds.  Dr.  Leyden 
has  introduced  such  a  dwarf  into  his  ballad  entitled  the  Cout 
of  Keeldar,  and  has  not  forgotten  his  characteristic  detesta- 
tion of  the  chase. 

"  The  third  blast  that  young  Kee'dar  blew, 
Still  stood  the  limber  fern, 
And  a  wee  man,  of  swarthy  hue, 
Upst?rted  by  a  cairn. 

His  russet  weeds  were  brown  as  heath 

That  clothes  the  upland  fell ; 
And  the  hair  of  his  head  was  frizzly  red 

As  the  purple  heather-bell. 


3lS  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE. 


"  An  iirchin,  clad  in  prickles  red, 
Cliinj»  cow'rinj;  to  his  arm  ; 
Tlie  hounds  tliey  howl'd,  and  backward  fled, 
As  struck  by  fairy  cliarni. 

'"\Vliy  rises  high  the  stag-liound's  cry. 
Where  stag-hound  ne'er  sliould  Ijc  ? 
Why  wakes  that  horn  the  silent  morn 
Without  the  leave  of  me  ? '  — 

'  Brown  dwarf,  that  o'er  the  moorland  strays, 

Thy  name  to  Kceldar  tell ! '  — 
'The  Brown  Man  of  the  Muirs,  who  stays 

Beneath  the  heather-bell. 

" '  'Tis  sweet  be.ieath  the  hcathcr-bell 
To  live  in  autumn  brown  ; 
And  sweet  to  hear  the  lavVock's  swell, 
I-'ar,  far  from  tower  and  town. 

'"  But  woe  Ix-tidc  tiie  shrilling  horn. 
The  chase's  surly  cheer  ! 
And  ever  that  hunter  is  forlorn, 
Whom  first  at  morn  I  hear.' '' 

The  poetical  picture  here  j:jiveii  of  ihc  Duergar  corresponds 
exactly  with  the  following  Norlh'iinbrian  legend,  with  which 
I  was  lately  favored  by  my  learned  and  kind  friend,  Mr. 
Surtee.s  of  Mainsforth,  who  has  bestowed  indefatigable  labor 
upon  the  antiquities  of  the  Knglish  ]}order  counties.  The 
subject  is  in  itself  so  curious,  that  the  length  of  the  note  will, 
I  hope,  be  pardoned. 

"  I  have  only  one  record  to  offer  of  the  appearance  of  our 
Northumbrian  Duergar.  My  narratri.>c  is  Klizabeth  Cock- 
burn,  an  old  wife  of  {)ffertf)n,  in  tliis  county,  whose  credi;.  in 
a  case  of  this  kind,  will  not,  I  hope,  be  much  im|)eaclK'il, 
when  I  add,  that  she  is,  by  her  dull  neighbors,  supposed  to  be 
occasionally  insane,  but,  by  her.self,  to  be  at  those  times  en- 
dowed with  a  faculty  of  seeing  visions,  and  spectral  appear- 
ances, which  shun  the  common  ken. 


APPENDIX.  319 


"  In  the  year  before  the  great  rebellion,  two  young  men 
from  Newcastle  were  sporting  on  the  high  moors  above 
Elsdon,  and  after  pursuing  their  game  several  hours,  sat  down 
to  dine  in  a  green  glen  near  one  of  the  mountain  streams. 
After  their  repast,  the  younger  lad  ran  to  the  brook  for  wa- 
ter, and  after  stooping  to  drink,  was  surprised,  on  lifting  his 
head  again,  by  the  appearance  of  a  brown  dwarf,  who  stood 
on  a  crag  covered  with  brackens,  across  the  burn.  This  ex- 
traordinary personage  did  not  appear  to  be  above  half  the 
stature  of  a  common  man,  but  was  uncommonly  stout  and 
broad-built,  having  the  appearance  of  vast  strength.  His 
dress  was  entirely  brown,  the  color  of  the  brackens,  and  his 
head  covered  with  frizzled  red  hair.  His  countenance  was 
expressive  of  the  most  savage  ferocity,  and  his  eyes  glared 
like  a  bull.  It  seems  he  addressed  the  young  man  first, 
threatening  him  with  his  vengeance  for  having  trespassed  on 
his  demesnes,  and  asking  him  if  he  knew  in  whose  presence 
he  stood  ?  The  youth  replied,  that  he  now  supposed  him  to 
be  the  lord  of  the  moors ;  that  he  offended  through  igno- 
rance ;  and  offered  to  bring  him  the  game  he  had  killed.  The 
dwarf  was  a  little  mollified  by  this  submission,  but  remarked, 
that  nothing  could  be  more' offensive  to  him  than  such  an 
offer,  as  he  considered  the  wild  animals  as  his  subjects,  and 
never  failed  to  avenge  their  destruction.  He  condescended 
further  to  inform  him,  that  he  was,  like  himself,  mortal, 
though  of  years  far  exceeding  the  lot  of  common  humanity ; 
and  (what  I  should  not  have  had  an  idea  of)  that  he  hoped 
for  salvation.  He  never,  he  added,  fed  on  anything  that  had 
life,  but  lived  in  the  summer  on  whortleberries,  and  in  winter 
on  nuts  and  apples,  of  which  he  had  great  store  in  the  woods. 
Finally,  he  invited  his  new  acquaintance  to  accompany  him 
home,  and  partake  his  hospitality ;  an  offer  which  the  youth 
was  on  the  point  of  accepting,  and  was  just  going  to  spring 
across  the  brook  (which  if  he  had  done,  says  Elizabeth,  the 


320  THE   LADY  OF   THE   LAKE. 


dwarf  would  certainly  have  torn  him  in  pieces),  when  his  foot 
was  arrested  by  the  voice  of  his  companion,  who  thought 
he  had  tarried  long :  and  on  looking  round  again,  '  the  wee 
brown  man  was  [\<^(\:  The  story  adds,  that  he  was  impru- 
dent enough  to  slight  the  admonition,  and  to  sport  over  the 
moors  on  his  way  homewards;  but  soon  after  his  return  he 
fell  into  a  lingering  disorder,  and  died  within  the  year." 


Note   M. 

Aitd  <f(ii/y  s/ii)/(.<  the  Fairy-land  — 
't'«/  all  IS  i^lis/cm'iii;^  s//oiv.  —  P.  165. 

No  fact  respecting  Fairy-land  seems  to  be  better  ascer- 
tained than  the  fantastic  and  illusory  nature  of  its  apparent 
pleasure  and  splendor.  It  has  been  already  noticed  in  the 
former  quotations  from  Dr.  Graliame's  entertaining  volume, 
and  may  be  confirmed  by  the  following  Highland  tradition  : 
"A  woman,  whose  new-born  child  had  been  conveyed  by 
them  into  their  secret  abodes,  was  also  carried  thither  lierself, 
to  remain,  however,  only  until  she  could  suckle  her  infant. 
She,  one  day,  during  this  period,  observed  the  Shi'ichs  busily 
.■mployed  in  mixing  various  ingredients  in  a  boiling  caldron  ; 
and,  as  soon  the  composition  was  prepared,  she  remarked 
that  they  all  carefully  anointed  their  eyes  with  It,  laying  the 
remainder  aside  for  future  u.se.  in  a  moment  when  they 
were  all  ai)sent,  she  also  attempted  to  anoint  her  eyes  wiiii 
the  precious  drug,  but  hatl  time  to  apjily  it  to  one  eye  only, 
when  the  Daoine  S/ii'  returned.  IJut  with  thai  eye  she  was 
henceforth  enabled  to  see  everything  as  it  really  passed  in 
:heir  secret  abodes  she  saw  every  object,  not  as  she  hitherto 
had  done,  in  deceptive  splendor  and  elegance,  but  in  its  gen- 
uine colors  and  form.  The  gaudy  ornaments  of  the  apart- 
ment were  reduced  to  the  walls  of  a  gloomy  cavern.     Soon 


APPENDIX. 


after,  having  discharged  her  office,  she  was  dismissed  to  her 
own  home.  Still,  however,  she  retained  the  faculty  of  seeing, 
with  her  medicated  eye,  everything  that  was  done,  anywhere 
in  her  presence,  by  the  deceptive  art  of  the  order.  One  day, 
amidst  a  throng  of  people,  she  chanced  to  observe  the 
Shi'ich,  or  man  of  peace,  in  whose  possession  she  had  left 
her  child ;  though  to  every  other  eye  invisible.  Prompted  by 
maternal  affection,  she  inadvertently  accosted  him,  and  began 
to  inquire  after  the  welfare  of  her  child.  The  man  of  peace, 
astonished  at  being  thus  recognised  by  one  of  mortal  race, 
demanded  how  she  had  been  enabled  to  discover  him. 
Awed  by  the  terrible  frown  of  his  countenance  she  acknowl- 
edged what  she  had  done.  He  spat  in  her  eye,  and  extin- 
guished it  forever."  —  Graham's  Sketches,  p.  116-118.  It  is 
very  remarkable,  that  this  story,  translated  by  Dr.  Grahame 
from  popular  Gaelic  tradition,  is  to  be  found  in  the  "  Otia 
Imperialia  "  of  Gervase  of  Tilbury.^       A  work  of  great  inter- 

'  This  story  is  still  current  in  the  moors  of  Staffordshire,  and  adapted  by  the 
peasantry  to  their  own  meridian.  I  have  repeatedly  heard  it  told,  exactly  as  here, 
by  rustics  who  could  not  read.  My  last  authority  was  a  nailer  near  Cheadle.  —  R, 
Jamieson. 

One  other  legend,  in  a  similar  strain,  lately  communicated  by  a  very  intelligent 
young  lady,  is  given,  principally  because  it  furnishes  an  opportunity  of  pursuing  an 
ingenious  idea  suggested  by  Mr.  Scott,  in  one  of  his  learned  notes  to  the  Lady  of 
the  Lake :  — 

"  A  young  man  roaming  one  clay  through  the  forest,  observed  a  number  of  per- 
sons all  dressed  in  green,  issuing  from  one  of  those  rouna  eminences  which  are 
commonly  accounted  fairy  hills.  Each  of  them  in  succession  called  upon  a  person 
by  name,  to  fetch  his  horse.  A  caparisoned  steed  instantly  appeared  ;  they  all 
mounted,  and  sallied  forth  into  the  regions  of  air.  The  young  man,  like  All  Baba  in 
the  Arabian  Nights,  ventured  to  pronounce  the  same  name,  and  called  for  his 
horse.  The  steed  immediately  appeared ;  he  mounted,  and  was  soon  joined  to  the 
fairy  choir.  He  remained  with  them  for  a  year,  going  about  with  them  to  fairs  and 
wetldings,  and  feasting,  though  unseen  by  mortal  eyes,  on  the  victuals  that  were 
exhibited  on  those  occasions.  They  had,  one  day,  gone  to  a  wedding,  where  the 
cheer  was  abundant.  During  the  feast,  the  bridegroom  sneezed.  The  young  man, 
according  to  the  usual  custom,  said,  '  God  bless  you  !"  The  fairies  were  offended 
at  the  pronunciation  of  the  sacred  name,  and  assured  him,  that  if  he  dared  to  re- 


322  77//r     LAPV  OF   THE  LAKE. 

est  might  be  compiled  upon  the  origin  of  popular  fiction,  and 
the  transmission  of  similar  tales  from  age  to  age,  and  from 
country  to  country.  The  mythology  of  one  period  would 
then  appear  to  pass  into  the  romance  of  the  next  century, 
and  that  into  the  nursery-tale  of  the  subsequent  ages.  Such 
an  investigation,  while  it  went  greatly  to  diminish  our  ideas 
of  the  richness  of  humm  Invention,  would  also  show,  that 
these  fictions,  however  wild  and  childish,  possess  such  charms 
for  the  populace,  as  enable  them  to  penetrate  into  countries 
unconnected  by  manners  and  language,  and  having  no  appa- 
rent intercourse,  to  afford  the  means  of  transmission.  It 
would  carry  me  far  beyond  my  bounds,  to  produce  instances 
of  this  community  of  fable,  among  nations  who  never  bor- 
rowed from  each  other  anything  intrinsically  worth  learning 
Indeed,  the  wide  diffusion  of  popular  fictions  may  be  com- 
pared to  the  facility  with  which  straws  and  feathers  are 
dispersed  abroad  by  the  wind,  while  valuable  metals  cannot 
be  transported  without  trouble  and  labor.  There  lives,  I  be- 
lieve, only  one  gentleman,  whose  unlimited  acquaintance  with 
this  subject  might  enable  him  to  do  it  justice  ;  I  mean  my 
friend  Mr.  Francis  Douce,  of  the  jiritish  Museum,  whose 
usual  kindness  will,  1  hope,  ]iar(lon  niy  mentioning  his  name, 
while  on  a  subject  so  closely  connected  with  his  extensive  and 
curious  researches. 

peat  it,  they  would  punish  him.  The  briflejjroom  sneezed  a  second  time.  He 
repeated  his  l<lessi>if::  they  tlireatcncd  nmre  tremendous  vengeance.  He  sneezed  a 
third  time ;  he  blessed  him  .is  Ix-forc.  The  fairies  were  cnw>;ed  ;  tliey  tumblc<l  him 
from  a  precipice;  but  he  found  himself  unhurt,  and  was  restorctl  to  the  society  of 
ir.ort.ils.  —  I)K.  Oraiiami's  Sl-ele/ies,  second  edition,  pp.  255-7.  Sec  Note,  "  Fairy 
Superstitions,"  Kob  Roy,  N.  Edit, 


APPENDIX.  323 


Note   N, 

Sec,  here-  nil  va)itagclc$s  I  stn>td^ 

Ai-md,  like  thyself,  xvith  suiglc  brand,  — P.  204. 

The  duellists  of  former  times  did  not  always  stand  upon 
those  punctilios  respecting  equality  of  arms,  which  are  now- 
judged  essential  to  fair  combat.  It  is  true  that,  in  formal 
combat  in  the  lists,  the  parties  were,  by  the  judges  of  the 
field,  put  as  nearly  as  possible  in  the  same  circumstances. 
But  in  private  duel  it  was  often  otherwise.  In  that  desperate 
combat  which  was  fought  between  Quelus,  a  minion  of  Henry 
III.  of  France,  and  Antraguet,  with  two  seconds  on  each 
side,  from  which  only  two  persons  escaped  alive,  Quelus  com- 
plained that  his  antagonist  had  over  him  the  advantage  of  a 
poniard  which  he  used  in  parrying,  while  his  left  hand,  which 
he  was  forced  to  employ  for  the  same  purpose,  was  cruelly 
mangled.  When  he  charged  Antraguet  with  this  odds,  "Thou 
hast  done  wrong,"  answered  he,  "to  forget  thy  dagger  at 
home.  We  are  here  to  fight,  and  not  to  settle  punctilios  of 
arms."  In  a  similar  duel,  however,  a  youngei  brother  of  the 
house  of  Aubanye,  in  Angoulesme,  behaved  more  generously 
on  the  like  occasion,  and  at  once  threw  away  his  dagger  when 
his  enemy  challenged  it  as  an  undue  advantage.  But  at  this 
time  hardly  anything  can  be  conceived  more  horribly  brutal 
and  savage  than  the  mode  in  which  private  quarrels  were 
conducted  in  France.  Those  who  were  most  jealous  of  the 
point  of  honor,  and  acquired  the  title  of  Riiffines,  did  not 
scruple  to  take  every  advantage  of  strength,  numbers,  sur- 
prise, and  arms,  to  accomplish  their  revenge.  The  Sieur  de 
Brantome,  to  whose  discourse  on  duels  I  am  obliged  for  these 
particulars,  gives  the  following  account  of  the  death  and 
principles  of  his  friend,  the  Baron  de  Vitaux  :  — 


"^24  THE   LAnV  OF   THE   /..IK I-. 


"  J'i^y  oui  collier  h.  un  Tirciir  d'armcs,  ciui  apprit  ^  Millaud 
a  en  tircr,  lequcl  s'apclloit  Seigneur  le  Jacques  Ferron,  de  la 
ville  d'Ast,  qui  avoit  este  h  nioy,  il  fut  despuis  tue  c\  Saincle- 
Hasille  en  Gascogne,  lors  que  Monsieur  du  Mayne  I'assiegea, 
lui  servant  d'Inge'nieur ;  et  de  malheur,  je  I'avois  addresse' 
audit  I^aron  quelques  irois  niois  auparavani,  jjour  I'exercer  h. 
tirer,  bien  qu'il  en  s^x'ust  prou  ;  niais  il  ne'en  fit  comptQ;  et 
le  laissant  Millaud  s'en  servit,  et  le  rendit  fort  adroit.  Ce 
Seigneur  Jacques  done  me  raconta,  qu'il  s'estoit  monte  sur 
un  noyer,  assez  loing,  pour  en  voir  le  combat,  et  qu'il  nevist  ja- 
mais homme  y  aller  plus  bravement,  ny  plus  re'solument,  ny  de 
grace  plus  asseurtfe  ny  de'termine'e.  II  commenga  de  marcher 
de  cinquante  pas  vers  son  enemy,  rele\'ant  souvent  ses  mous- 
taches en  haut  d'une  main  ;  et  estant  h.  vingt  pas  de  son 
ennemy,  (non  plustost,)  il  mit  la  main  il  I'espee  quil  tenoit  en 
la  main,  non  qu'il  I'eust  tire'e  encore  ;  mais  en  marchant,  il  fit 
voller  le  founeau  en  I'air,  en  le  sccouant,  ce  qui  est  le  beau 
de  cela,  et  qui  monstroit  bien  un  grace  de  combat  bien 
asseur(fe  et  froide,  et  nuUement  temeraire,  commc  il  y  en  a 
(|ui  tirent  leurs  espe'es  de  cinq  cents  pas  de  I'enncmy,  voire  do 
mille,  commc  j'en  ay  veu  aucuns.  Ainsi  mourut  ce  brave 
JJaron,  le  parogon  de  I'Vance,  qu' on  noinmoit  tel,  h.  bien 
venger,  ses  querelles,  par  grandes  et  dc'termintfes  resolutions. 
II  n'estoit  pas  seulement  estime  en  France,  mais  en  Italic, 
Fspaigne,  Allemaigne,  en  P.oulogne  et  Angleterre;  et  desiro- 
ient  fort  les  Fstrangers,  vcnanl  en  France,  le  voir;  car  je  I'ay 
veu,  tant  sa  renommee  volloii.  II  estoit  fort  petit  de  corps, 
mais  fort  grand  de  courage.  Ses  ennemis  disoient  c|u'il  ne 
tuoit  pas  bien  ses  gens,  cjue  par  advantages  et  supercheries. 
Certes,  je  tiens  de  grands  capitaines,  et  mesme  d'ltaliens,  qui 
ont  estez  d'autres  fois  les  jiremicrs  vengcurs  du  mond,  in  opii 
moi/o,  disoieiit-ils,  f|ui  ont  tenu  cette  maxime,  c|u'iinc  supcr- 
( heric  ne  se  devoit  payer  c|ue  par  semblable  monnoye,  et  n'y 
alloit  point  la  de  deshonneur," —  Ocnvrcs  <k  Brantotne,  Paris, 


APPENDIX.  325 


1787-8.  Tome  viii.  u.  90-92.  it  may  be  necessary  to  inform 
the  reader,  that  this  jjaragon  of  France  was  the  most  foul 
assassin  of  his  time,  and  had  committed  many  desperate 
murders,  chiefly  by  the  assistance  of  his  hired  banditti ;  from 
which  it  may  be  conceived  how  little  the  point  of  honor  of 
the  period  deserved  its  name.  I  have  chosen  to  give  my 
heroes,  who  are  indeed  of  an  earlier  period,  a  stronger  tinc- 
ture of  the  spirit  of  chivalry. 


Note  O. 

The  burff/icrs  hold  their  sports,  to-day.  —  P.  217. 

Every  burgh  of  Scotland  of  the  least  note,  but  more  espec- 
ially the  considerable  towns,  had  their  solemn //f^?/,  or  festival, 
when  feats  of  archery  were  exhibited,  and  prizes  distributed 
to  those  who  excelled  in  wrestling,  hurling  the  bar,  and  the 
other  gymnastic  exercises  of  the  period.  Stirling,  a  usual 
place  of  royal  residence,  was  not  likely  to  be  deficient  in 
pomp  upon  such  occasions,  especially  since  James  V.  was 
very  partial  to  them.  His  ready  participation  in  these  popu- 
lar amusements  was  one  cause  of  his  acquiring  the  title  of 
King  of  the  Commons,  or  Rex  Plcheioruin^  as  Lesley  has 
latinized  it.  The  usual  prize  to  the  best  shooter  was  a  silver 
arrow.  Such  a  one  is  prese  ved  at  Selkirk  and  at  Peebles. 
At  Dumfries,  a  silver  gun  was  substituted,  and  the  contention 
transferred  to  lire-arms.  The  ceremony,  as  there  per- 
formed, is  the  subject  of  an  excellent  Scottish  poem,  by 
Mr.  John  Mayne,  entitled  the  Silver  Gun,  1808,  which  sur- 
passes the  efforts  of  Fergusson,  and  comes  near  to  those  of 
Burns. 

Of  James's  attachment  to  archery,  Pitscottie,  the  faithful, 
though  rude  recorder  of  the  manners  of  that  period,  has 
given  us  evidence  :  — 


32(3  THE   I.AnV   <'/•     ////•;    LAKE. 


"Ill  lliis  Near  ihcrc  c  air.c  an  ciiil)a>satl<ir  <>ut  of  iMisrland. 
nanicil  Lord  Walliain  Howard,  with  a  bishop  with  him,  with 
many  other  gentlemen,  to  the  number  of  threescore  horse, 
whitli  were  all  able  men  and  waled  [picked]  men  for  all  kinds 
of  games  and  pastimes,  shooting,  louping,  running,  \vrestlii>g, 
and  casting  of  the  stone,  but  ihey  were  well  'saved  [essayed 
or  tried)  ere  they  passed  out  of  Scotland,  and  that  by  theii 
own  provocation  ;  but  ever  they  tiv.t :  till  at  last,  the  Queen  of 
Scotland,  the  king's  mother,  favoured  the  English-men,  be- 
cause she  was  the  King  of  England's  sister ;  and  therefore 
she  took  an  enterprise  of  archery  upon  the  English-men's 
hands,  contrary  her  son  the  king,  and  any  six  in  Scotland  that 
he  would  wale,  either  gentlemen  or  yeomen,  that  the  English- 
men should  shoot  against  them,  either  at  pricks,  revers,  or 
buts,  as  the  Scots  pleased, 

"The  king,  hearing  this  of  his  mother,  was  content,  anil 
gart  her  pawn  a  hundred  crowns,  and  a  tun  of  wine,  uix)n  the 
r^nirlish-men's  hands  :  and  he  incontinent  laid  down  as  much 
for  the  Scottish-men.  The  field  and  ground  was  chosen  in 
St.  Andrews,  and  three  landed  men  and  three  yeomen  chosen 
to  shoot  against  the  luiglish-men,  —  to  wit,  David  Wemys  of 
that  ilk,  David  Arnot  of  th.at  ilk,  and  Mr.  John  Wedderburn, 
vicar  of  Dundee;  the  yeomen,  John  Thomson,  in  Leith,  Steven 
Taburner,  with  a  piper,  called  Alexander  Bailie  ;  they  shot 
very  near,  and  warred  [worsted]  the  English-men  of  the  en- 
terprise, and  wan  the  hundred  crowns  and  the  tun  of  wine, 
•which  made  the  king  very  merry  that  his  men  wan  the  vic- 
tor)'." 


APPENDIX.  327 


Note  P. 

These  drerv  7iot  for  thcii'  fchh  the  szvord. 
Like  tenants  of  a  feudal  lord. 
Nor  oiviid  the  patriarchal  claim, 

Of  Chieftain  in  their  leader  s  name  : 
Adveiittcrers  they P.  237. 

The  Scottish  armies  consisted  chiefly  of  the  nobility  and 
barons,  with  their  vassals,  who  held  lands  under  them,  for 
military  service  by  themselves  and  their  tenants.  The  patri- 
archal influence  exercised  by  the  heads  of  clans  in  the  High- 
lands and  Borders  was  of  a  different  nature,  and  sometimes 
at  variance  with  feudal  principles.  It  flowed  from  the  Patria 
Potesfas,  exercised  by  the  chieftain  as  representing  the  origi- 
nal father  of  the  whole  name,  and  was  often  obeyed  in  con- 
tradiction to  the  feudal  superior.  James  V.  seems  to  have 
first  introduced,  in  addition  to  the  militia  furnished  from 
these  sources,  the  service  of  a  small  number  of  mercenaries, 
who  formed  a  body-guard,  called  the  Foot-Band.  The  sati- 
rical poet.  Sir  David  Lindsay  (or  the  person  whe  wrote  the 
prologue  to  his  play  of  the  "  Three  Estaites,")  has  introduced 
Finlay  of  the  Foot-Band,  who,  after  much  swaggering  upon 
the  stage,  is  at  length  put  to  flight  by  the  Fool,  who  terri- 
fies  him  by  means  of  a  sheep's  scull  upon  a  pole.  I  have 
rather  chosen  to  give  them  the  harsh  features  of  the  merce 
nary  soldiers  of  the  period,  than  of  this  Scottish  Thraso, 
These  partook  of  the  character  of  the  Adventurous  Compan- 
ions of  Froissart  or  the  Condottieri  of  Italy. 

One  of  the  best  and  liveliest  traits  of  such  manners  is  the 
last  will  of  a  leader,  called  Geffroy  Tete  Noir,  who  having 
been  slightly  wounded  in  a  skirmish,  his  intemperance  brought 
on  a  mortal  disease.     When  he  found  himself  dying,  he  sum- 


3-'.S  THE  LADY  OF   THE  LAKE. 


nioned  lo  Iiis  bedside  the  adventurers  wIkhii  he  commanded, 
and  tluis  addresseil  iheni  :  — 

"  Fayre  sirs,  quod  GetYray,  I  knowe  well  ye  have  alwayes 
ser\'ed  and  honoured  me  as  men  ought  to  serve  their  sove- 
raygne  and  capitayne,  and  I  shall  be  the  gladder  if  ye  wyll 
to  have  to  your  capitayne  one  that  is  descended  of  my  agrc 
blode.  IJeholde  here  Aleyne  Roux,  my  cosyn,  and  I'eter  his 
brother,  who  are  men  of  armes  and  of  my  blode.  I  reciuire 
you  to  make  Aleyne  your  capitayne,  and  to  swere  to  hym 
taythe,  obeysaunce,  love,  and  loyalte,  here  in  my  presence, 
and  also  to  his  brother:  howe  be  it,  1  wyll  that  Aleyne  have 
the  soverayne  charge.  Sir,  quod  they,  we  are  well  content, 
for  ye  hauve  ryght  well  chosen.  There  all  the  companyons 
made  them  breke  no  poynt  of  that  ye  have  ordayned  and 
commaunded."  —  Lord  Berners'  Froissart. 


Note  Q. 

A)i<l  SiiD-vdoiiii's  l\iii>rlit  /.<  Scot  land's  h'imj;.  —  P.  J69. 

This  discovery  will  probably  remind  the  reader  of  the 
beautiful  Arabian  tale  of  Jl  Bondocatii.  Vet  the  incident  is 
not  borrowed  from  that  elegant  story,  but  from  Scottish  tra- 
dition. James  V.  of  whom  we  are  treating,  was  a  monarch 
whose  good  and  benevolent  intentions  often  rendered  his 
romantic  freaks  venial,  if  not  respectable,  since,  from  his 
anxious  attention  to  the  interests  of  the  lower  and  most  op- 
l>ressed  class  of  his  subjects,  he  was,  as  we  have  seen,  popu- 
larly termed  the  Kin;^  of  thr  Comtnons.  For  the  jiurjiose  of 
seeing  that  justice  was  regularly  administered,  and  frec|uently 
from  the  less  justifiable  motive  of  gallantry,  he  used  to  trav- 
erse the  vicinage  of  his  several  palaces  in  various  disguises. 
The  two  excellent  comic  songs,  entitled  "The  (Jaberlunzie 
Man,"  and  "We'll  gae  nae  mair  a  roving,"  are  said  to  have 


APPENDIX.  329 


been  founded  upon  the  success  of  his  amorous  adventures 
when  travelHng  in  the  cUsguise  of  a  beggar.  The  latter  is 
perhaps  the  best  comic  ballad  in  any  language. 

Another  adventure,  which  had  nearly  cost  James  his  life,  is 
said  to  have  taken  place  at  the  village  of  Cramond,  near  Ed- 
inburgh, where  he  had  rendered  his  addresses  acceptable  to  a 
pretty  girl  of  the  lower  rank.  Four  or  five  persons,  whether 
relations  or  lovers  of  his  mistress  is  uncertain,  beset  the  dis- 
tinguished monarch  as  he  returned  from  his  rendezvous. 
Naturally  gallant,  and  an  admirable  master  of  his  weapon, 
the  king  took  post  on  the  high  and  narrow  bridge  over  the 
Almond  river,  and  defended  himself  bravely  with  his  sword. 
A  peasant,  who  was  threshing  in  a  neighboring  barn,  came  out 
upon  the  noise,  and  whether  moved  by  compassion  or  by  nat- 
ural gallantry,  took  the  weaker  side,  and  laid  about  with  flail 
so  effectually,  as  to  disperse  the  assailants,  well  threshed,  even 
according  to  the  letter.  He  then  conducted  the  king  into  his 
barn,  where  his  guest  requested  a  basin  and  a  towel,  to  remove 
the  stains  of  the  broil.  This  being  procured  with  difficulty 
James  employed  himself  in  learning  what  was  the  summit  of  his 
deliverer's  earthly  wishes,  and  found  that  they  were  bounded 
by  the  desire  of  possessing,  in  property,  the  farm  of  Braehead, 
upon  which  he  labored  as  a  bondsman.  The  lands  chanced 
to  belong  to  the  rrown ;  and  James  directed  him  to  come  to 
the  palace  of  Holyrood,  and  enquire  for  the  Guidman  (/.  e. 
farmer)  of  Ballengiech,  a  name  by  which  he  was  known  in 
his  excursions,  and  which  answered  to  the  II  Bondocani  of 
Haroun  Alraschid.  He  presented  himself  accordingly,  and 
found,  with  due  astonishment,  that  he  had  saved  his  monarch's 
life,  and  that  he  was  to  be  gratified  with  a  crown-charter  of 
the  lands  of  Braehead,  under  the  service  of  presenting  a  ewer, 
basin,  and  towel,  for  the  king  to  wash  his  hands,  when  he 
shall  happen  to  pass  the  bridge  of  Cramond.  This  person 
was  ancestor  of  the  Howiesons  of  Braehe  id  in  Mid-Lothian, 


330  THE  LADY  OF  THE  LAKE. 


a  respectable   family,  who  coiilinuc   to  hold  the  lands  (now 
passed  into  the  female  line)  under  the  same  tenure.' 

Another  of  James's  frolics  is  thus  narrated  by  Mr.  Camjv 
bell  from  the  Statistical  Account :  "  Iking  once  benighted 
when  out  a-hunting,  and  separated  from  his  attendants,  he 
happened  to  enter  a  cottage  in  the  midst  of  a  m'oor,  at  the 
foot  of  the  Ochil  hills,  near  Alloa,  where,  unknown,  he  was 
kindly  received.  In  order  to  regale  their  unexpected  guest, 
the  guticman  (/.  c.  landlord,  farmer)  desired  the  gudc^vifc  to 
fetch  the  hen  that  roosted  nearest  the  cock,  which  is  always 
tile  plumpest,  for  the  stranger's  supper.  The  king,  highly 
pleased  with  his  night's  lodging  and  hospitable  entertainment, 
told  mine  host,  at  parting,  that  he  should  be  glad  to  return 
his  civility,  and  requested  that  the  first  time  he  came  to  Stir- 
ling he  would  call  at  the  castle,  and  encjuire  for  the  Gudcman 
of  BallcngKicJi.  Donaldson,  the  landhjrd,  did  not  fail  to 
call  on  the  GiiJcman  of  BaUngiiich,  when  his  astonishment 
at  finding  that  the  king  had  been  his  guest  afi'orded  no  small 
amusement  to  the  merry  monarch  and  his  courtiers;  and,  to 
carry  on  the  pleasantry,  he  was  thenceforth  designated  by 
James  with  the  title  of  King  of  the  Moors,  which  name  and 
designation  have  descended  from  father  to  son  ever  since,  and 
they  have  continued  in  possession  of  the  identical  spot,  the 
property  of  Mr.  ICrskine  of  Mar,  till  very  lately,  when  this 
gentleman,  with  reluctance,  turned  out  ihe  descendant  and 
representative  of  the  K'ng  of  the  Moors,  on  account  of  his 
majesty's  invincible  indolence,  and  great  dislike  to  reform  or 
innovation  of  any  kind,  although,  from  the  spirited  example 


'  [Tlic  rculiT  will  liiul  tills  story  fuM  at  Rrcatcr  l<ni;lli,  and  with  the  aflditinn 
in  p.irticular  of  Uii;  king  Ixin);  ricoKnizitl,  like  the  Fitz-JanR><  of  the  Lady  of  the 
I-akc,  by  bcinK  llic  only  person  covercrl,  in  the  First  Scries  of  Talcs  of  a  Grand- 
father, vol.  iii.,  p.  ^7.  The  heir  of  Urarhcad  discharRr.!  his  duty  at  the  Iwn- 
<|uet  Riven  to  King  (ieorge  IV.  in  the  r.irliameiit  Houbc  at  lidinburgh,  in 
1822.  — Ml. .J 


APPENDIX.  331 


of  his  neighbor  tenants  on  the  same  estate,  he  is  convinced 
similar  exertion  would  promote  his  advantage." 

The  author  requests  permission  yet  farther  to  verify  the 
subject  of  his  poem,  by  an  extract  from  the  genealogical 
work  of  Buchanan  of  Auchmar,  upon  Scottish  surnames  :  — 

"This  John  Buchanan  of  Auchmar  and  Arnpryor  was 
afterwards  termed  King  of  Kippen,^  upon  the  following 
account :  King  James  V.,  a  very  sociable,  debonair  prince, 
residing  at  Stirling,  in  Buchanan  of  Arnpryor's  time,  carriers 
were  very  frequently  passing  along  the  common  road,  being 
near  Arnpryor's  house,  with  necessaries  for  the  use  of  the 
king's  family ;  and  he,  having  some  extraordinary  occasion, 
ordered  one  of  these  carriers  to  leave  his  load  at  his  house, 
and  he  would  pay  him  for  it ;  which  the  carrier  refused  to  do, 
telling  him  he  was  the  king's  carrier,  and  his  load  for  his  ma- 
jesty's use  ;  to  which  Arnpryor  seemed  to  have  small  regard, 
compelling  the  carrier,  in  the  end,  to  leave  his  load  ;  telling 
him,  if  King  James  was  King  of  Scotland,  he  was  King  of 
Kippen,  so  that  it  was  reasonable  he  should  share  with  his 
neighbor  king  in  some  of  these  loads,  so  frequently  carried 
that  road.  The  carrier  resenting  this  usage,  and  telling  the 
story,  as  Arnpryor  spoke  it,  to  some  of  the  king's  servants, 
it  came  at  length  to  his  majesty's  ears,  who,  shortly  there- 
after, with  a  few  attendants,  came  to  visit  his  neighbor  king, 
who  was  in  the  mean  time  at  dinner.  King  James  having 
sent  a  servant  to  demand  access,  was  denied  the  same  by  a 
tall  fellow  with  a  battleaxe,  who  stood  porter  at  the  gate, 
telling,  there  could  be  no  access  till  dinner  was  over.  This 
answer  not  satisfying  the  king,  he  sent  to  demand  access  a 
second  time  ;  upon  which  he  was  desired  by  the  porter  to  de- 
sist, otherwise  he  would  find  cause  to  repent  his  rudeness. 
His   majesty  finding   this  method  would  not  do,  desired  the 

1  A  small  district  of  Perthshire. 


33^  TUE  LADY  OF  TJIE  LAKE. 


porter  to  tell  liis  master  that  llic  Goodman  of  I'.allagei^rh  de- 
sired to  speak  with  the  King  of  Kippen.  The  porter  telHng 
Arp.pryor  so  much,  he,  in  all  humble  manner,  came  and  re- 
ceived the  king,  and  having  entertained  him  with  mucli 
sumptousness  and  jollity,  became  so  agreeable  to  King  James 
that  he  allowed  him  to  take  so  much  of  any  provision  he  found 
carrying  that  road  as  he  had  c;casion  for;  and  seeing  he 
made  the  first  visit,  desired  Arnpryor  in  a  few  days  to  return 
him  a  second  to  Stirling,  which  he  performed,  and  continued 
in  very  much  favour  with  the  king,  always  thereafter  being 
termed  King  of  Kippen  while  he  lived."  —  Buchanan's 
Essay  jtpon  the  Faviily  of  Biiihanan.  Edin.  1775,  8vo,  p,  74. 
The  readers  of  Ariosto  must  give  credit  for  the  amiable 
features  with  which  he  is  represented,  since  he  is  generally 
considered  as  the  prototype  of  Zerbino,  the  most  interesting 
hero  of  the  Orlando  Furioso. 


